The Prize of Immortality
by HoneyBee1
Summary: Methos has to face his past, present, and future. Immortals battle for the 'Prize' in an age old Game, and it goes to the last Immortal standing. But what if there is another way to get the 'Prize?
1. The Dream

**Author's Note: **_I made this fan fiction years ago, and it had been posted before in this site generally with good reviews. I decided to delete it and start fresh. The story remains the same, hardly no changes whatsoever. The only changes are the chapters. I would like to apologize for the delays of the fan fiction. It isn't my intention to delay this. Thank you for all the e-mails of suggestions, reviews and feedbacks. I really appreciate it. I've been very busy lately. I didn't have time to make it into a proper format just like the previous ones, again I apologize. Working with this particular fanfic is very hard especially now. After my father has passed away, I'm beginning to think about the meaning and the whole purpose of writing about immortals. It's seems ironic from my perspective. But I put that aside, and came up with a conclusion; it is only a story. Enjoy._

* * *

_I saw and behold_

_A pale horse and its rider name was Death_

_He was followed by Hades_

_They were given the power over a fourth of the earth_

_To kill with sword_

_And with Famine and with Pestilence_

_And by wild beasts of the earth_

A village was burning to the ground, but the rains cooled the fires. Smoke was everywhere. The street was full of corpses and dead bodies. A boy was crying next to his mother's dead body. The image was so horrifying. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse were there, and they had just announced their presence. A man with dark cloak walked slowly towards the boy, like an angel of death. He unsheathed his sword. After a brief pause he raised his sword high above his head, while the boy just cried and looked up to the man with the dark cloak.

Methos grinned and stabbed him.

* * *

Methos awake with a start. It was only a dream. He was sweating and wiped his face. The clock showed 4 AM, and the moonlight peeked through his curtains. He sat up slowly at the edge of his bed and sighed. "Damn nightmares…" He stood up and walked to the fridge in his kitchen and opened up a can of beer. While drinking the liquid, he walked to the window and looked outside. He was wearing nothing except a pair of boxers. He stood at the window, still drinking the beer, and thought hard.

It was only a dream.

The time was different. He was different. The street outside his apartment was not a village with people that were screaming in terror. The days had long gone since he had been one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse. There were no longer any kinds of Horsemen. Yet, he was standing here, looking out of the window and the image of terror flashed back to his eyes. A man, who saw everything, and had done everything for 5000 years and more.

He would live longer. He knew that. Somehow he would always be the survivor. He would stay alive until the end. He would win the Game. Nothing else really mattered anymore. Only the stupid Game, the one in which he alone would stand triumphant. He knew, someday he would face his own friends. He felt very tired somehow. He felt thin and empty at the same time. His eyes then looked to the calendar. He gulped and ripped off the calendar. Dates and years were useless for him. Time stood still for him, and it would always be that way.

"Why now?" He whispered. Why the recurring nightmares? He knew he would never leave the past behind, but it was a long time ago since he had dreamt about his past as one of the Horsemen. Was it an omen? A sign? Something was drawing near; he could feel it.

Methos crushed the beer can in his bare hand.


	2. The Woman

A dark haired woman walked to her Porsche in the parking lot mall building with shopping bags under her arms. She was fumbling with her car keys, trying to open her car when suddenly she felt a buzz. She turned around and saw a man, smiling ear to ear. "Well, well. Doing some shopping, are we now?" He chuckled. "Nice car, woman. They didn't have that kind of car back then." The dark haired woman just gave an exasperated sigh and put her shopping bags in the car.

"What do you want?" she asked with almost a bored tone.

"Revenge." He sneered and pulled out a sword from the back of his jacket.

She just rolled her eyes. "So what else is new?" She muttered. She went to the back of her car and opened her baggage trunk, and pulled out a sword. "Do I even know you?" She asked with calm tone and tossed her sword to other hand.

He said menacingly. "My name is Benny Moth. You killed my friend, Tobias. It was 70 years ago, in Egypt. And you have something that I want, woman."

"Really?" She walked with the sword in her left hand, while the man also walked carefully. Ready for a fight. "Care to explain? I have a bad memory."

"Such a waste for a beauty." He mocked. "A sword. An ancient sword that you stolen from Tobias."

She stopped moving and she frowned to him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't lie to me, woman! You have that legendary sword, and I want it now. If you won't tell me, I'll have to kill you…" He snickered. "And maybe pay a little visit to your husband."

She glared dangerously and angled her sword towards him. "Leave my husband out of this."

"I am not alone you know. There are bunch of us who know about the Sword. So it would be wise that you just tell us where it is, and we won't harm you and your husband." She did not budge nor say anything. Finally, she stood up straight, and put away her sword.

Moth was looking at her curiously, while she was just smiling. "You are right. I cannot take that chance. I haven't been fighting for quite sometime, I might lose. And I don't want you to hurt my husband. I will tell you where the sword is."

"Clever girl." Moth chuckled. "Where is it then?"

"I put it somewhere safe." She answered.

"Where?" He asked impatiently. She smiled weakly and crossed her arms.

"In Museum of Cairo." She said flatly. "In Egypt." Moth groaned in frustration.

"In a museum! Are you for real? How the hell we are going to get that sword?" She didn't answer, but still watched him. Her sword was laid in the ground. "Oh, crap! I hate breaking into a museum."

"Why you are interested to the Sword? It was just an old sword. No difference with the sword you are using right now." She asked.

Moth laughed. "Are you kidding? That sword is the pinnacle of our existence in life! That's the reason of the Game! That sword…" He smiled. "It's the Prize."

She smiled. "I see…"

"What? You don't believe me? There was a reason why the ancient Egyptian made that sword. It is said that whoever holds the sword will have a great and terrible power! And it must be the Prize!"

She scoffed. "Please. It's only a junk. It's only a myth. Made by those who were stupid enough to believe that there is such thing as a magic sword." She sneered. "It's only a relic!"

Moth laughed. His sword was still pointed to her. "Well, junk or not – it's still worth it. We would find a good use for it." He walked towards her. "But you have to die!"

She had anticipated this and easily dodged the strike. With a strong blow, she elbowed him from behind and kicked his legs. Moth yelped and dropped on his knees. He was going to reach his sword, when she stepped upon it and broke the blade. She pressed her sword to his neck, while he just gasped. She talked with a cold tone. "Tell me something, Benny. Before I cut your head off. Who are these 'we' you were talking about?"

Moth just sputtered while she pressed a little bit of her sword. "Tobias' friends! They were digging for the sword back then, but you killed Tobias and took it!"

"Who are they? And where are they now? How come they are coming after my husband?" She practically growled.

"No reason. They need a hostage so you can bring them the sword." He was afraid of his life.

"I need names."

"Don't kill me!"

"Give me names!"

Moth gave up when he felt the sword actually bite into his neck and he felt his own blood dripping from where she put pressure on. "Be-Benedict Thorpe. He was behind this; he was the one who led the digging back then. He approached me and told me that you killed Tobias, and he said I should seek revenge."

She just gritted her teeth. "I know who he is."

"Now will you let me go!"

She ignored him. "Who else, beside Thorpe?"

"I don't know his name. I swear." He was begging for his life.

"Fine." She released her sword, and Moth just stumbled on the ground and groaned. She walked to her car when she suddenly stopped. She turned around and looked to Moth. "On second thought, you were right about something." Moth frowned, unable to understand. "I was lying; I did kill your friend, Tobias. The Sword is not in the museum, and that sword does have an incredible power."

Before Moth could say anything, she swung her sword and beheaded him.

A moment of silence, and then she looked up and spread her arms as the Quickening arrived. Electricity crawled all around the supports of the parking lot building, along the cars – thus made most of the car alarms blare uncontrollably. She clenched her fists and draw her arms close to her body, and then fell to her knees with a gasp when the Quickening ended.

Still shaken, she stood up and walked to her car. She turned off the car alarm with her auto-key and climbed into the car. She started the engine, and rolled out from the parking lot building. She knew that she was being watched by a Watcher, who was recorded everything with his camera phone. She didn't care. Evelyn Hope had something more important than a duel with a stupid immortal, nor with a secret organization who had been around for centuries. After all, she had been around the block too for so long.

The Watcher shook his head. The electricity caused by the Quickening almost knocked him over, and ruin the camera recorder. Luckily, he brought along his camera phone. He sighed and called his supervisor, "Hey, this is Rob. There was a Quickening here. What? Oh, she won. The poor bastard didn't have a chance anyway. I'll give you the detail report. Yeah, uhuh." He paused to listen. "No, sir. She just left. And I don't want to follow her. My hair is still sticking up." He listened again to the conversation while carefully try to fix his hair. "Yes, sir. This is another attack towards her. You will get the report as soon as possible." He signed off and sighed. He muttered, "They should make pills for this!"

He stared to the dead body in the parking lot. He sighed again, and rolled up his sleeves.


	3. The Conversation

Methos was sitting near the fire in the desert camp, his cloak wrapped around his body. It was a cold night. Next to him was the sleeping Kronos, also with his cloak wrapped around him. He was snoring, but not too loud. Silas was chewing a raw meat, and Caspian was mumbling unintelligently while grinding his dagger with rock. Methos closed his eyes, and tried to sleep too. But he couldn't. The night was too quiet and he sensed something was drawing near. Their horses were agitated, and clomped their feet.

Suddenly he felt a buzz and he stood up quickly. Kronos' eyes snapped open and he stood up also. Silas stopped chewing, with blood dripping from his mouth and Caspian stopped grinding. Methos walked slowly to the small hill of sand and almost choked. There was an army of dozens standing there across the desert and they were lined up, ready to fight.

Right in front of them stood a huge, dark and immortal man. Methos gritted his teeth and drew his sword. Kronos did the same thing, while Silas threw away the last of the meat and grabbed his axe. Caspian muttered something and gave a little chuckle.

"Can we eat the corpses?" Caspian licked his lips.

Kronos and Methos didn't answer, while Silas just burped. The tall man raised his hand and yelled a battle cry. His followers shouted a battle cry and ran towards the Four Horsemen.

Methos' eyes were getting dark.

Methos snapped his eyes open. He sat up right away, and realized he was at Joe's bar. He was visiting Joe and had bought a drink, and then fallen asleep. The bar was closed apparently, because all the chairs had been put up. He frowned. Why Joe didn't wake him up?

"Joe?" He called out. Joe answered from the back.

"Yeah?" Joe walked in with his cane, bringing along a thick book. "Oh, you awake, sleeping beauty? I tried to wake you when the bar was closing but you just kept sleeping like a log."

"I did?" He frowned.

"You better lay down your beer, old man. I don't think you can handle your drinks anymore." Joe chuckled. Sometimes it amused him that he called the immortal an old man, while he looked younger than him. Anyone who took a glance at them would see that it was suppose the other way around. Methos didn't reply as usual with his wits and smart mouth comments. Instead he frowned, and wiped off a cold sweat that had formed on his forehead.

Another dream about the past.

"What's that?" He asked, regarding the thick book.

"Oh, this? A book about swords." Joe replied and flipped the pages. "I need to know something about a certain sword."

Methos raised his eyebrow. "Why?"

Joe answered dutifuly. "It's a Watcher's duty to know these kinds of things."

"No, it's not."

"What do you mean, 'no it's not'?"

"Watchers duties are to observe and record immortals behaviour, but never interfere." Methos said with a mocking tone. "Never about swords. What happened?"

"Nothing happened. I need to do my reading." Joe shrugged. He hated it when being asked by Methos. It was like being interrogated.

"Since when you read?" Joe glared to Methos. "Beside, you have computers. Wonders of technology, use it."

"Like you said, because Watchers never learn about swords – we never recorded them. So we don't have any files on it." Joe was trying to steer away the conversation. The oldest immortal seemed always had his upper hand in most conversations.

"We immortals only use swords as a weapon, not as a fashion statement." Methos said. "What are you looking for, anyway?"

"None of your beeswax." Joe answered flatly.

"Ha, I like it when you say beeswax." Methos said and snatched the book. Joe just gave an exasperated sigh and let Methos read the book. "Ooh, I haven't seen this one for hundreds of years." He pointed a page with a picture of a sword. "Pretty light to handle, women usually have them. They're light and sharp."

Joe just muttered. "I bet."

"So anyway, what are you looking for?" Methos casually asked.

"I don't know…" Joe answered.

"Huh?"

"I don't know whether I should tell you this…"

"Please."

"Have you heard about a myth regarding a particular sword?"

"Come again?"

Joe sighed and poured himself a drink. "A few months ago, Amy reported there was an activity going on among the immortals and there was a rumour; a rumour that there are bunch of immortals looking for a certain sword." Methos frowned. "It seems that this particular sword is the Prize."

Methos scoffed hearing that. "A sword as the Prize?"

"So you never heard of it?"

"That is ludicrous. We've been playing this Game for God knows how long, and you are telling me after all we've been through, the winner only gets a freaking sword? Joe, even I laugh at that idea!"

Joe didn't say anything at first. He was thinking hard. "Well, I don't know about that. You people don't even know what you are getting at. There is a possibility."

"Come on, Joe." Methos waved his hand. "Where did you get this anyway?"

"Well, like I told you. Amy reported something about this search for an ancient sword by your fellow immortals." Joe answered.

"Let them be. You know how it is, a rumour comes along and people will buy it. Especially those people who think it look like an easy way out of the Game." Even Methos sounded unconvincing. Joe didn't answer. He just sipped his drink.

Or was it true?

Was there a way out of the Game?

Methos pondered this for a second. He cleared his throat and read the book again. He saw that most of the swords looked alike; to him it was just weaponry. There were styles of swords, and some people liked to use the swords as a fashion statement, regrettably. But when an immortal was as old as he was, he neither cared nor paid attention to the swords. Swords were used as killing weapons. He had used so many swords; he didn't even remember how many of those were used to kill other immortals.

Or innocent people.

The dreams about the past. It had been repeated over and over again for the past month. He didn't know the meaning of it. But he knew something was about to happen – soon.

A telephone rang broke Methos' thought. Joe picked up his cellular phone. "Dawson's here. Yeah, hey Rob." He wrote down something in his pad, while Methos pretended he didn't glance over what he wrote. "Gotcha'." He hung up the cellular phone. Joe put the notepad back to his jacket and smiled grimly to Methos. Methos almost shook his head; Joe could never play dumb. One could easily read him.

Methos closed the book. "Well, this is very exciting. Learning about history of weapon. But I got something better to do."

"Oh, like what?" Joe asked while cocking his eyebrow.

"Taking a vacation.

"What vacation?"

"The one that I am going to take."

Joe scoffed. "Methos, everyday is a vacation for you. When the last time you get a real job?"

Methos grabbed his jacket and walked toward the exit door. "Joe, I don't need a job. My life was decided a long time ago." He said with a grin.

And then he stopped and turned around. Joe threw a questionable face. "What?"

"Tell Amy that there is no such thing as a Prize. We only live forever. Until we die." Methos said mysteriously, and then he went out. Joe looked to the exit door with confused face. He looked at his notepad and read it.

It said, _"Benedict Thorpe"_.


	4. The Guardian

Lots of guards stood around a great big mansion. It was a quiet night, but the guards were attentive. Most of the people were sleeping at the time, but in one window there was a light. A dark haired lady was standing near the window, watching the area outside the mansion. She was wearing a bathrobe and her dark hair was in bundle. She saw all the guards were guarding the mansion. A figure in a wheelchair rolled over slowly behind her. An old man said slowly, "Evelyn." She turned around with a start, when she saw who it was she smiled.

"Darling. How come you're not sleeping?" The old man just smiled weakly and wheeled closer. "Martin, you know you should take the medicine so you can get some sleep."

"Evelyn, you've been standing at that window every night – staring outside the mansion. What happened, dear?" Evelyn just smiled and kissed her husband in the forehead.

"Nothing that should worry you, love." She assured him.

"I saw…" He cleared his throat and smiled again. "Most of the guards are guarding this mansion like a fortress."

"You know how it is, Martin. There have been robberies near the neighbourhood. It's like a crime wave; they robbed mansions like this. I'm just taking precautions." Again, she assured him. Sometimes she felt bad lying to him.

He didn't say anything, but held her hand. His hand was wrinkled and a little bit shaky. "You know, I always regret my condition. That in my condition I can't be with you and protect you."

Evelyn frowned, "And what condition is that?"

He looked into her eyes and said slowly. "Getting old."

Evelyn didn't say anything about Martin's remark. She closed her eyes and kneeled down and put her head on his knees. He brushed over her hair with his shaky hand. She whispered, "Maybe that's a blessing."


	5. The Rumour

Methos was typing on his laptop when he felt a buzz. He stopped typing and reached for his sword near the table. And then he heard a knock on his door"METHOS!" A woman yelled. Methos sighed heavily, walked to the door, and then opened it. Amanda burst in with bunch of suitcases.

"Please come in." He said sarcastically. Amanda ignored him and put her hands on her hips. Methos blinked when he saw her hair. Amanda liked to change her hair; either it was her style or her hair colour. This time she had her hair dyed with pink and black.

"Did you know?" Amanda started.

"That pink is not your natural colour?" He was still looking at her hair in amazement.

She ignored his comment. "That there is a rumour about the Prize."

"What rumour?"

"Don't tell me that you haven't heard it!"

"I might have heard something…" Methos walked to the kitchen. "Would you like something to eat?"

"Methos." Amanda stomped her foot. "There is a rumour floating around that there is some kind of ancient sword that is possibly THE Prize!"

"And you believe it?"

"Well, don't you?"

"Amanda, how long have you been doing this?" Methos opened his refrigerator and peeked inside.

Amanda frowned. "Doing what?"

"The whole Game thing?"

Amanda sighed. "Since forever."

"Exactly. And ever since we got thrown into the Game, we never ever heard about such thing as this. And suddenly a Prize is emerging? Nonsense." Methos pulled out a cake. "Sponge cake?" Amanda sighed again and sat on the stool of the kitchen table. Methos put a plate of sponge cake in front of her, and she started to dig in. She chewed her food slowly, like she still had something on her mind. Methos also joined her, and stuck a fork into the cake.

"You know Methos, maybe you're right." She said finally after a moment of silence. "But you have no idea how the rumours started to get blown up to this big proportion."

"How did it start, exactly?" He put another piece of cake into his mouth.

"Well, a couple of months ago there was this guy. He basically has this gang of underground thieves or something."

"Hearing it from you, I believe it's true," Methos muttered.

Amanda ignored him and kept talking. "So anyway, this gang is looking for an ancient sword that they believe is the actual Prize." Amanda looked to Methos. Methos looked at her and nodded.

"Again, do you believe it?" asked Methos. "Is that why you brought those suitcases? You want to find the sword? Why are you here?"

"Help me find it." She begged and showed him her doe-eyes. Methos didn't even budge.

"Amanda, I'm not trying to be unsupportive. But if you're trying to hurl yourself into this 'gold fever' mania, I'm not helping you." He said in an almost bored tone.

"Oh come on. Don't you want to find out about it? Don't you think this is a very good chance to see what's going on?"

"Listen, I don't like to be a part of something that is unknown. I live a nice life now, people don't keep looking for me – hardly anyone knows me, life goes on. And I intend to keep it that way." Amanda tried to say something but Methos cut her off. "If you and I are going to look for this sword, you bet your head that there would be at least hundreds of curious immortals that will do anything to get their grubby hands on the trophy."

Amanda sulked and put her hand to her chin. She started to eat another piece of the cake. Methos sighed and drank a glass of milk. "I bet it's priceless…" Amanda said slowly. There was a glimmer in her eyes, and Methos saw it. He almost chuckled but decided to get another piece of cake. "If it's an ancient sword, and people are willing to sacrifice everything for it… You know how much money are we talking about?" Methos was about to retort, but she cut him off. "These underground thieves must've known something about it. I need to know their leader's name. Maybe I should ask Nick, just in case he knows something." She muttered to herself. Methos just rolled his eyes.

"Benedict Thorpe." Methos said. Amanda raised her eyebrows, questionably. "Benedict Thorpe is the name, I presume." Amanda widened her eyes. "Bit of luck. I read Joe's notepad."

"Interesting."

"It seems that the Watchers have been learning about this new information, and right now they've been grinding their nose for this." He continued.

"Interesting."

"I am not going to help you find any Watchers' information." He flatly said.

"Methos…" Amanda started to whine. "I need this. This is going to be the treasure of the lifetime."

"Yeah. A piece of junk." Amanda pouted again. Methos gave an exasperated sigh. He walked to his computer and put on a CD ROM. A Watchers symbol appeared to the monitor. He started to type. Amanda was standing beside him and watched intently.

"How do you get all of this? I thought you're out from the Watchers?"

"I stole it." Methos answered shortly. Amanda had an amused look on her face. "Joe never gave any information to me, so I copied any kind of information from his computer – while he was away, of course – to CD ROM. And then we have a direct link to the Watchers website files." "There you go. Benedict Thorpe." In the monitor there was a picture of a man with a scar in his cheek. Methos and Amanda read the files together. "Apparently an international thief. You got yourself a rival there, old girl."

"Shut up." She said and kept reading. "Born 200 years ago. He tried to break into a museum in Cairo 70 years ago, but got caught." She scoffed. "Amateur."

Methos rolled his eyes. "He was arrested, but broke out the prison a year later and has led an underground thieves organization ever since."

Amanda pointed out something, "Look, the last data of an immortal he faced 70 years ago in Cairo." She dragged a chair and sat next to Methos. "Apparently when he tried to steal something in the museum, he was challenged by another immortal inside the museum. But he almost didn't make it because the guards nearly caught the fight, so the other immortal made a run for it – and Thorpe was arrested."

"Another thief?" asked Methos.

"Check the file of that immortal," Amanda requested. Methos typed something and a file came out with a picture of a dark haired woman. Both of them looked at it in amazement.

"A woman," said Methos.

Amanda frowned. "I've never heard of another immortal female thief."

"Well, maybe because she wasn't a thief."

Amanda kept reading. "Her name is Evelyn." Methos looked at the monitor. She seemed familiar. "I've never heard of her."

"Neither have I, but she looks familiar." Methos was frowning. The downside of being old like him, sometimes it was hard to memorize every living human being on the planet that encountered him in his many lives. Hell, sometimes he forgot he met new people few days ago.

"She was a curator of the museum. Oh, I guess she caught our buddy Thorpe there and tried to stop him." She shrugged.

"No file about how old she is."

"But she beheaded an immortal, a few days ago in Bel-Air." Amanda put a face. "Bel-Air? What she was doing in Bel-Air?"

"Apparently she's rich," Methos commented. "She married a rich man named Martin Hope 50 years ago, and basically lives a good life." He read the file.

Amanda pouted her lips. "I can do that. Pretty and rich."

Methos typed some words and searched for some information about the immortal. "So, Thorpe is after her – according to the report in this file. He sent another immortal to do a dirty job for him. Somehow he was looking for the information of the ancient sword."

"Which ancient sword are we talking about here?" Amanda practically hovering beside Methos, which annoyed him, but he didn't say anything.

"No files about it." Methos read the files. "The Watchers have been sending a lot of field agents to study this." He whistled. "Sounds like the Methos Chronicles years ago."

"They cancelled the Methos Chronicles, right?" She was amused.

"Yup. Thanks to me."

"You know, I wish there was Amanda Chronicles."

"Believe me sweetie; it's not as flattering as it sounds." Amanda laughed and Methos just smiled. They kept reading the file. "So, you're still interested in looking for this ancient sword, despite everything that I said?" Amanda nodded slowly. Methos sighed. "You know, it's not worth it."

"You may be right. But have I ever listened?"

"Never."

"Exactly."

Methos yawned and stretched his back. "So what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to see this immortal chick first. See if she knows something." Methos still looked at her picture. Amanda frowned. "What?"

Methos pointed her picture on the monitor. "I've seen her before."

"Maybe from your past?" She asked. Methos blinked at her comment.

The past.

Was this the sign? A sign from the past? Maybe his recurring dream had meaning after all. An ancient sword, a familiar face, and his dreams. All seemed to be leading to something. Something was coming; he could feel it in his gut. But what? Amanda cleared her throat. Methos looked at her. He stood up and went to the kitchen to put the dishes in the sink. Amanda looked at him in confusion. "Methos?"

Methos stood next to the kitchen table. He turned around to look at Amanda. "Have you ever had a recurring dream about something?"

"Like what?" She crossed her arms across her chest.

"Anything." Methos sighed. "Sometimes about the past."

Amanda nodded. "Well, yeah. Sure. Sometimes."

"I've had these weird dreams about my past. It's been occurring for a few months now. I don't know whether it's supposed to mean anything, but…" He shrugged.

"What kind of dreams?" Amanda asked.

Methos hesitated before answering her question. "About the Horsemen of the Apocalypse."

Amanda looked at Methos with a worried face. "Oh."

"Yeah. Oh." Methos sighed and brushed his hair with his hand and walked to the window. "You know it's been a few years since The Horsemen ceased to exist. I know The Horsemen are supposed to be a part of my life forever. Whether I like it or not."

"We are the past, the present, and the future, Methos," said Amanda. "We shaped this world. This civilization, these traditions." Amanda approached him and put her hand to his shoulder. "And we cannot forget about the past. Because that was the thing that shaped us."

"I know that Amanda. But lately I feel like I've grown tired of this whole thing." His words almost like a whisper.

"I understand how you feel." She truly understood.

"But I don't have any choice, do I?"

Amanda put her head to Methos' back and murmured, "We don't know that."

"You think I should find this Sword? Maybe there is an alternative after all."

"Worth of shot." She whispered.

"We don't know whether it's worth it."

"But that makes life interesting." Amanda smiled while she kept her head on Methos' back.

Methos chuckled and nodded. "You always have ways to convince me."

"I'm not the only one who can be charming, Methos." They laughed together. Methos turned around, and Amanda pinched Methos' nose. "Shall we find a Sword, old guy?"

"We shall, old girl." Methos pushed Amanda's hand playfully. "By the way, where is your boyfriend?"

"Nick?" Amanda pouted. "We kind of need some space right now. Ever since he found out that he's an immortal, he's become grouchy."

"Understandable." Of course, only Amanda could make her boyfriends grouchy. Not to mention a stark-raving lunatic. He knew the story of Nick Wolfe, Amanda so-called boyfriend. Amanda basically triggered his death, and it made Nick very angry. He didn't appreciate what Amanda did, no matter what Amanda pleaded to him that she'd done it to saved his life. Basically, he didn't forgive her and he left her. But in some miracle situation, Amanda thought they were still together and act like there wasn't anything wrong with their relationship. She seemed to think that Nick was just in tantrum. Methos almost feel sorry for both of them. Almost.

"Yeah, whatever." Amanda glanced to the fridge. "Can I have some more of your cake?"


	6. The Name

Evelyn was doing her Yoga routine in one of the rooms in the Mansion. She was breathing hard, doing the hardest move. Beads of sweat were forming on her forehead and she was trying to concentrate – but her mind was somewhere else. She closed her eyes and tried to focus, but an image of a Sword keep flashing in her mind. Finally she couldn't take it; she fell down on her knees, panting. She hit the floor with a clenched fist; she was angry. "Damn. Not now. Not like this." She whispered. After collected herself, she stood up, breathing hard. She heard a knock on the door. "Come in."

A butler opened the door. "Pardon me, madam. But Sir Hope wishes to see you. He is in the library." Evelyn nodded but she was looking at the window and frowning. The morning sky seemed odd today; it had different colour – darker with clouds.

"Is it going to rain today?" asked Evelyn.

"I have no knowledge of that madam," answered the butler. He bowed a little, and then went out from the room. Evelyn walked to the window and looked at the sky and held her breath. The clouds were forming like it was going to be a heavy rain, or a storm.

---

_**Flashback, Cairo 1932**_

Evelyn was working alone in her office in the museum. She was translating an ancient Egyptian scrolls when she felt a buzz. She swallowed hard and opened a trunk, and grabbed a sword. She walked out of her office towards the basement, the place where the museum put relics and artefacts that hadn't been studied. She walked down the stairs with her sword in her hand. She gripped the sword tightly, but her face was hard. Someone was breaking in the museum in the middle night, and she hated the idea that they were probably an immortal.

She had fought a mere few weeks ago in the digging area near Alexandria, and she was lucky that she had won. She hadn't faced an immortal for many years, and the fight was pretty intense for her. She finally reached the basement and was suddenly face to face with the intruder, a man with scar on his cheek.

"Doctor Evelyn Wolcott, I presume?" he said, sitting atop one of the sarcophagus.

"Who the hell are you?" She asked.

The man just chuckled and waved a 16th century sword and climbed down. "My name is Benedict Thorpe. You killed one of my colleagues a few weeks ago near the tomb of Seth in Alexandria."

"And I suppose you're seeking revenge?"

"I couldn't care less about him." He swung his sword and Evelyn blocked it. "You've stolen something from him."

Evelyn pushed the sword and took a step back. "I didn't steal anything," she growled.

Thorpe laughed and attacked again. They fought for a while until Thorpe slashed her arm. Evelyn winced and again had to take some step back. "Technically you didn't steal anything. But you have something I want."

"Cut to the chase, moron. I don't have time for this."

"Foul mouth for a lady." He laughed again. But then he grew serious. "The Sword of Ishtanu, you have it."

Evelyn's eyes grew dark. "What do you want with the sword?" She hissed.

"What do I want with the sword?" He laughed again. "Why, to rule the world of course."

"You don't know how dangerous the Sword is," Evelyn said.

"My dear, danger is my middle name. The Sword will help me to rule this fragile world." He said snobbisly.

"I guess stupid is your middle name." Evelyn suddenly swung her sword and it caught Thorpe by surprise. His sword fell to the floor, and he was about to pick it up when a hard kick landed in his stomach. Thorpe groaned aloud and coughed hard, while Evelyn just stepped on his hand.

"Prepare to die." She hissed.

"What?" He said grimly. "Can we just forget that none of this ever happens?"

"I'm doing you a favour, you fool." She raised her sword, ready to cut his head when suddenly she heard voices of the guards; they were coming to the basement. She cursed and made a run for it through the back door. Thorpe was lying on the floor and also tried to make a run for it, when suddenly a bunch of security guards surrounded him. They were yelling at him and arrested him. Thorpe gritted his teeth but there was nothing he could do besides letting the guards' arrests him.

---

Evelyn walked into the library at the mansion and greeted her husband. "Good morning, dear. Did you have your breakfast?"

"I missed you at the breakfast table," he said gloomily. Evelyn smiled and kissed Martin on the cheek. Martin set down his book and looked at his wife. She looked beautiful; barefoot and wearing her tank-top and sweatpants.

"I am so sorry Martin. But I had to call the museum for shipping orders, and you know how it is with the whole thing." She sat down at the table. "I won't do it next time. I always love eating together with you. Would you like me to cook dinner for tonight?"

Martin didn't answer. He just watched Evelyn with a weak smile. "I'm not sure…"

Evelyn frowned. "Martin?"

"I feel it Eve…" He wheeled his wheel-chair away from her and stopped near the window. "I feel my time has come."

Evelyn felt a knot on her stomach. She bit her lip and tried to talk normally, even though she knew that she might cry if she couldn't be strong about this. "What are you talking about?" she asked cheerfully, too cheerfully perhaps.

"You know perfectly well that I'm dying."

Evelyn gave a little laugh and walked to her husband, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Don't be silly. You are healthy as an ox, and could very well live for years."

Martin smiled sadly and touched his wife's arm with his wrinkled and shaky hand. "I am not an immortal, Eve."

That statement struck her. She closed her eyes and prayed that the tears that she was holding back wouldn't fall. "No… You are not." She murmured. He smiled and held his wife's hand and kissed it lightly.

"Please be as beautiful like you are now for the next life and beyond," he said. Evelyn didn't answer; she was still standing behind her husband's wheelchair. "Promise me that."

She finally answered, but when she did her voice was cracked. "I promise…"

"I love you, Anthea…" Martin said. Evelyn sobbed when she heard Martin called her real name.


	7. The Night

The fight in the desert was over.

Methos was barely standing in the desert with dead corpses everywhere near him, while Kronos, Silas and Caspian were nowhere to be found. Methos was panting, he was covered with blood – most of it wasn't his. His hands were shaking, and he had a terrible headache. But the fighting was over, with him the only one who was standing.

Suddenly he felt a buzz, and he closed his eyes. Slowly he turned around, and tried to see a giant person who walked slowly towards him. He couldn't see him because some blood just dripping and covering his eyes. But he knew who it was; it was the leader of the desert thieves, who had brought along his dozens of men that the Horsemen had just fought.

The tall giant immortal leader growled dangerously, and raised his sword to Methos. Methos didn't have any strength to defend himself. He closed his eyes, ready to die. The tall immortal was screaming and swung his sword when suddenly an axe smacked through his back. He gasped and tried to look what happened, and almost went insane to see an axe actually stuck in his back. Methos looked up and saw Silas was the one who threw the axe. He was bleeding too and hurt, but he still had a smile on his face. The tall immortal fell down like a sand bag and passed out.

Silas walked towards the thief leader, grabbed the axe and pulled it out. Silas was a little groggy and wiped the blood from the axe. "Always watch your back, brother."

He raised his axe and be-headed the leader. Methos was breathing hard and watched as the Quickening overtook Silas. The wind howled and formed some kind of spinning sand tornado around Silas. Silas screamed hard while Methos covered his own head, because the lightning was overbearing. When it calmed down, Silas was sitting on the ground. He yawned and wiped most of the blood from his face with his hand, while Methos just watched him.

Suddenly they felt another buzz. They turned around and saw Kronos was holding his own head and groaned; he was badly hurt too and bleeding. Caspian was walking behind him and coughed because all of the sand was getting into his mouth. For a moment they didn't say anything. They just looked at each other and saw what was left in the fight.

Suddenly Caspian burst of laughing, he was laughing and howling and holding his own stomach and Kronos joined him. He too was laughing uncontrollably, while Silas just guffawed. Caspian even rolled over the ground, still laughing. Methos didn't say anything. He watched his comrades insanely laughing after they had just fought with dozens of men. He closed his eyes and dropped flatly on his back.

The night was full of stars. The stars seemed to laugh together with them. And then Methos giggled, and finally he was laughing like crazy with Kronos, Silas and Caspian.

---

A car stopped near a huge mansion during the night. Methos and Amanda were inside the car and looked at the mansion. It was the Hope's Mansion; they found the address from the Watchers' file. Methos was behind the steering-wheel while Amanda sat beside him. Amanda groaned when she looked at the mansion. "Damn, I should live in that kind of place."

"Girl, you were married to a king once. What happened?" He asked.

"I got bored, and faked my own death." Amanda answered. Methos just chuckled. "Okay, so married life doesn't suit me. The guy was awfully dull, and being his queen was like spending an eternity in boredom hell."

"Even though he had all the money in the world?" Somehow he didn't really want to know the answer.

"I didn't die empty handed. As the kingdom tradition, they buried their royalty with treasure." She smiled remembering it. She showed her pinkie finger, and there was a ruby ring. "I still kept the memoir of my king."

"I don't want to know who the king was," Methos said. And then they stopped talking and looked at the mansion. Two guards were standing in front of the gate. "What's with the guards?"

"Well, with a mansion like that they have the protection all they need." Amanda shrugged.

"Even you can't get in." Methos said, and almost regretted it after saying that because Amanda glared at him with wide eyes and opened her mouth like she didn't believe that Methos had just said that. Methos bit his lip to suppress his laughter and put on a serious face.

"I swear Methos…" She stopped in the middle of her sentence because she felt a buzz, and so did he. Amanda was looking around and Methos also looked from his view mirror. "Uh-oh." She said.

The gate of the mansion was opened, and out came a woman with a dark hair. She was followed by a number of bodyguards. Amanda gave Methos a signal to step on the gas, while Methos just frowned looking at her walking to the car. Amanda got panicked seeing all the bodyguards surrounded the car.

"Should we hit them with the car?" asked Methos. Amanda just grunted and sat helplessly in the passenger seat. The woman tapped on the car window, and gave a signal to roll it down. Because she was knocking on the passenger seat's window, Amanda had to open it. She pushed the button and the window was rolled down.

The woman smiled to them, and said politely. "Good evening."

"Hi." Amanda replied and smiled nervously. Methos didn't say anything, just looked at her standing next to the car. "You know what – I think we're kind of lost here. So would you please tell your men to move over so we can pass?"

The woman just smiled and said, "I'm afraid I can't let you go."

Amanda laughed nervously. "Ha. Okay."

She continued, "Not until you tell me what you are doing here in front of my house in the middle of the night." Amanda stammered a little, while Methos seemed lost on his thought. He was trying to figure out who the woman was, because he knew her.

"We were just trying to find The Playboy Mansion, clearly we got lost. You see, we've been alive forever." Amanda chuckled, "But we never got to see the Playboy Mansion."

The dark hair woman smiled hearing Amanda. "Clearly you're lying. We have law for trespassers, and the owner has rights to shoot them." That shut Amanda up. She usually had something to say to anyone – anything. But somehow this woman just intimidated her. She bit her lip, and waited to see what was going to happen. They didn't say anything for a while. The woman just watched them, and then sighed. "Fine then." She started to walk away from the car, and she gave a signal to her men.

The guards started to cock their guns. Amanda gasped when Methos yelled, "We were wondering whether you want to help us, Evelyn!" Evelyn stopped on her track. She turned around and gave a signal to her men to hold. The men put their guns away. Amanda clutched her hands to her chest and looked to Methos in disbelief.

Evelyn walked back again to the car and smiled. "So you know my name."

"Yes we do." Methos answered.

"Did Thorpe send you?"

"Nope. We don't know him and it doesn't concern him." Methos answered politely.

Evelyn eyeing Methos. She couldn't remember when she had seen Methos before. "We'll see. And why should I help you? In what way?"

"We know that you have information about an ancient sword that is considered to be the Prize."

"Really? How come I'm not surprised?"

"Help us." He said.

Evelyn gave Methos a hard look. She tightened her jaw and was about to say something when a cellular phone rang. One of the men picked his cellular phone and listened to the other end, his face worried. He hung up and talked to Evelyn. "Ma'am, something's wrong with Master Hope."

"What?" She felt her heart almost stopped beating.

"The nurse said he couldn't breathe. She's already called 911; the ambulance will be here in a minute." Evelyn seemed like she was seeing a ghost. She started to walk to the mansion when Methos opened the door, and the men just pointed their guns to him.

"Maybe I can help. I'm a doctor," said Methos.

Evelyn turned over to him in disbelief. "What?"

"I'm a doctor." Evelyn didn't say anything but looked at him. The guards kept their guns pointed at Methos. "For God's sake, could you ask them to put away their weapons!"

Evelyn gave a signal and they put away their guns. "Can you help my husband?" she asked. Methos looked at her, while Amanda was still sitting in the car, biting off her nails.

"I can try." He answered. Evelyn nodded.


	8. The Memory

Everything seemed blurry to Evelyn. Two strangers had shown up in front of her home hours ago, and she wasn't surprise to find out what their intentions were. At least these two seemed harmless. The last ones had come over to her house, broke into the mansion and almost killed her, and she had had no choice but to defend herself. Eventually she beheaded all of them. She was lucky the guards didn't found out about it. Their orders were clear; guard the Mansion.

But right now she was worried to death about her husband. She was praying non-stop that her husband would get better; she couldn't lose him. And now she was letting this stranger look at her husband. Although her husband just had an episode, he stubbornly refused to go to the hospital. He had been checking on her husband for hours, checking out his pulse and stuff. She could barely look at what was happening. It seemed unreal, she felt like she was dreaming.

This stranger seemed to be doing everything he could to help her husband, and then an ambulance had come, and the two medics had brought along their equipment. That was hours ago. Martin's usual doctor couldn't be reach at the moment. And Martin still refused to go to the hospital. She had no choice but to let him being taken care by the medics and the stranger. Right now all of them were trying to help her husband.

Evelyn was outside her room, only accompanied by one of the strangers. She seemed too confused to say anything to Evelyn, and only stood next to her. She watched the night sky from the window of the hallway and didn't say anything. It was going to be morning soon. The stranger then sat down in one of the chair in the hallway with her head hung down and her knees up to her chin. She suddenly looked up and said, "I am sorry."

"Huh?" Evelyn looked at the pink-haired woman.

"We shouldn't be here. We're sorry to bother you; we didn't intend to do any harm." Amanda whispered.

Evelyn didn't reply, just looked straight outside her window. The stranger sighed heavily and hung her head again. Evelyn looked at her; she had dyed her hair pink and black to her amazement. Evelyn closed her eyes and tried to focus. And then she opened her eyes and said,

"You are a thief." Amanda blinked and looked at her nervously. This woman seemed to be making her nervous the whole time. "I trust that you are looking for the sword because of the value, not because of the rumour?" Amanda blinked again. This woman also seemed to be able to read minds. "I can read your mind, yes."

That did it; Amanda stood up and looked at her in wide eyes. "How could you…"

"It's a gift that I have. Sometimes I can read minds, sometimes I can't. No biggie," she said flatly. She walked to Amanda. "What's your name?"

"I thought you already knew…"

"I try not to peek into other people's minds. Everyone needs their privacy." Evelyn shrugged.

"Oh…" Amanda just nodded. Evelyn seemed tired with dark circles below her eyes, and pale as a ghost. "My name is Amanda."

"Your friend…" She started. "Can he save my husband?"

"He's a good doctor… But I don't know." Amanda looked guilty.

"My husband… he's been sick for a long time. And he is also in his old age." Evelyn said with dreamy tone. "I always wondered how it feels to be old."

"But we are old." Amanda pointed out. Evelyn smiled and looked to Amanda. "You know what I mean." The two women were standing together in the silhouette. They stood there silently, lost on their own thoughts when suddenly the door was opened.

The medics left the room, taking back their equipments. Evelyn looked at them with hope in her eyes and her hands clenched into fists.

"Ma'am, we've done everything we can…" Evelyn bit her lip hard. "He is asking for you now. We're sorry. We'll be waiting outside the room so you can say goodbye…" Evelyn didn't wait any longer and rushed into the room. The other stranger was sitting next to the bed where Martin was laying down. He was holding Martin's hand and talked slowly to him. Evelyn didn't hear what he was saying.

"Darling…" Evelyn croaked. Martin looked up and smiled at her, he was no longer using his breathing tank and pipe. He held out his shaky hand, and Evelyn held it and kissed it. Evelyn and Methos held both of Martin's hands. "You're going to be okay, I promise you."

"Eve, I didn't know that you have a very good doctor here." Martin said with rasped voice. "He was trying his best to take good care of me. And I don't even know his name."

Evelyn looked at Methos and tries to say something. "Honey, this is doctor…"

"Pierson." Methos said. "My name is Adam Pierson. I used to be a doctor."

Martin nodded and smiled. He held both Evelyn and Methos' hands tightly. "I see, in another life-time?" Methos didn't answer, only smiled politely. Evelyn was shaking and tried her best not to burst into tears.

"He's… He is going to be okay, right?" Evelyn asked Methos. Methos just looked at Evelyn sadly.

Martin chuckled, "They have done everything that could be done. My time is up." Evelyn shook her head violently when suddenly a tear drop and rolled over her cheek. Martin saw it, "Oh dear, please don't cry. This is something that you shouldn't cry over."

"Martin…" Evelyn sobbed.

Methos was ready to leave the room, "I will leave you both." But Martin held his hand tight.

"Stay here doctor. It's not everyday that I get to see another immortal."

Methos was stunned to hear that. "Yes, I know about immortals. I am not one of them, you know?" Methos didn't say anything, just held the old man's hand.

Evelyn was shaking and crying finally. She was sobbing and tried to say something, "Please Martin, don't say anything. Please get some rest – you feel better tomorrow."

Martin didn't answer, he just smiled. His breathing was constant, but anyone knew that this was going to be the end of the old man's life. "I am very grateful to have met you and be your husband. I've tried my best to be a good husband. Not everybody has all the luck in the world." Martin spoke softly. Evelyn cried and put her cheek to Martin's hand. "I love you Evelyn Hope."

"Martin…" She sobbed. "I love you so much."

"Thank you for everything you have done. And thank you for being with me all this time."

"Martin, please don't leave me…"

"I won't leave you, dear. You know that." Evelyn looked to Martin in confusion but she didn't say anything. "I will live forever," he said. Evelyn blinked her dark blue eyes. "In your heart." He kissed Evelyn's hand. Evelyn cried more, while Methos was silent. "Doctor Pierson…" Martin turned to Methos.

"Yes?"

"Thank you for the kind words. I really appreciate it." Martin said.

Methos smiled and put both of his hand to Martin's hand. "You're welcome."

Martin pulled both Methos and Evelyn's hand together so they clasped together, when suddenly Evelyn and Methos felt a déjà vu sensation. Like a roller coaster dream they had a flashback about their past.

---

_**Flashback, 380 BC**_

Methos was sleeping near the fire camp in the mountain hills alone during the night. It was a quiet night when he felt a buzz, and he quickly woke up. He stood up and peeked behind the rocks while gripping his sword. He saw a dozen barbarian men were circling a rider on the horseback. It seemed they were robbing this horse rider. Methos couldn't see who it was, nor didn't he want to know about it. He prays that it wouldn't be one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Ever since he had left them, he had walked very carefully in this earth so they couldn't find him.

Methos watched as the rider fought against the robbers, and was very amused by the fighting skill. Finally the rider had defeated all the robbers; some of them even scattered around and ran away. Methos pondered whether he should climb down the hill and see what would happen, or just avoid the rider. But it was too late to make any decision, because the rider looked up and saw Methos.

Surprisingly, the rider just turned around and walked away with the horse, and departed. Methos made a quick decision; he tossed sand to the fire and grabbed his bag and his sword, and then climbed down the mountain. The rider seemed didn't care about him, but Methos needed a ride to the next city. He grew tired just walking in the road; the rider might give him a lift.

"Ahoy there! Can you wait?" Methos yelled while running down the hills. He almost broke his neck because he was running so fast he was practically stumbling down. The rider stopped and looked to Methos. Methos stopped right in front of the rider. "I was wondering whether you would give me…" Methos stopped in the middle of his sentence because he saw who the rider was. "…a lift."

The most beautiful woman with dark hair was looking down at him from her horseback.

Methos was lost for words.

The wind stirred and her long dark hair moved slowly, like a dream.

"May I help you?" Her voice was light and yet full of pain. Methos was taken aback by her beauty and forthright attitude.

"Forgive me, but I never see beauty of such rarity since the beginning of time." The woman didn't reply, she just clicked her tongue and made her horse move. Methos said again, "And women usually appreciate any compliment about their beauty."

She stopped her horse and turned around. "No women should easily believe everything that men say, unless they need something."

Methos smiled. "Of course. My intention is whether I could get a lift from you to the next city. In addition to your beauty and your skills with the sword, I am completely overwhelmed." Methos bowed a little. "My name is Methos. Though I am a wandering poet and musician, I flatter myself that my spirit for loving beauty excels even those of the royal aristocrats. Just now, calling forth my meagre talents, I created a poet to praise your beauty." Methos cleared his throat. _"Her figure, like the cypress tree. Slender and tall. Her black hair, as if cut out from the night sky…"_

The woman smiled a little. "For a poet, you seem to lack originality."

Methos ignored her comment and asked, "Why would someone like you be travelling in a land infested with barbarians? And at least, perhaps you will tell me your name?"

"My name is Anthea." She smiled.

_Anthea…_

Evelyn and Methos opened their eyes. They were still holding hands, and they looked at each other. They didn't say anything but still stared at each other, because they realized that they knew each other. Evelyn broke the eye contact and turned to Martin. Martin had already closed his eyes, and Evelyn could feel his cold hand. Tears were running down her cheek and her lips quivered. Martin had gone; he had died and left her alone. She hugged Martin and cried without sound.

Methos stood up and walked out.

---

Amanda was standing near the window; she turned around and sighed to see Methos. "Is he…?"

Methos nodded and turned to the medics. "Please give her some time." The medic merely nodded, and they left, being escorted by a butler to another room to make a call to the hospital. Methos saw that the sun had risen, and the sky seemed red.

Amanda looked at him worried, "I'm sorry Methos."

"The old man had a history of heart problems. So basically he is free from more pain now," Methos said with bitterness on his voice.

Neither of them said anything for a minute. Then Amanda broke the silence; "She can read minds…" Methos looked at her. "I regret the whole thing. We shouldn't have come here in the first place. I am an idiot."

"On the contrary, Amanda. I think it meant to happen."

Amanda frowned, "What do you mean?"

Methos touched the glass window. It was cold from the morning air. When he talked, his voice seemed so far away. "I know her."

"You do?"

"It's a long time since I saw her."

"So you knew of her ability? That she can read minds?" asked Amanda. Methos didn't answer; he just closed his eyes. "I heard it's a very rare gift for an immortal to have. Who is she, anyway? How come I've never seen her before?"

_Rare gift. _

_Rare beauty. _

_The past. _

_The dream. _

It seemed everything was a puzzle that needed to be solved. This was one of the pieces of the puzzle. He stroked the glass window slowly. When he finally answered, his voice was pained. "She was the woman that I fell in love with." Amanda stared to Methos with wide eyes.

They didn't say anything after that. The morning came, and with it a new hope for tomorrow. Or maybe a new meaning.


	9. The Determination

A man was sat in the large, high-backed chair behind an immense desk, writing something. There was a scar on his cheek. Another man entered the room and cleared his throat. "Yes, what is it Carl?" Benedict Thorpe was asking without even looking up.

"I'm just wondering whether we are going to have our next move." Thorpe didn't reply, but kept writing. "Shall I send some people to Los Angeles?"

"No need to." He answered, putting down his pen and finally looking up. "We will wait. In the mean time, circulate another rumour on the street about the Sword."

Carl smiled, "And the rumour is…?"

Thorpe tapped his fingers on the desk. "Be creative, Carl. You'll come up with something." Carl nodded and then made his way out.

There was another man standing in the shadow of the room, looking out of the window. He said with gruff yet soft voice: "We should act soon."

"Be patient," Thorpe replied. "Nothing is more fun than playing puppets." Thorpe watched the other man turned around, a little bit shaky. He looked very old, and there was a fire on his eyes.

"Do not tell me about being patient." He said in a dangerous tone. Thorpe didn't reply, but watched the man carefully. The man walked to the door slowly and left, slamming the door and one of the paintings fell down. Thorpe gritted his teeth.

---

Evelyn stood listening to the sound of the rain drumming softly against the window. She watched the drops of rain hit the glass, merges with other drops and formed little rivulets. She had long ago lost track of the time she had spent just watching the rain. It had been days since they buried Martin, and it had not stopped raining ever since. Someone clearing their throat behind her brought back to her surroundings. She looked back to found her butler standing near the door. "Madam, everyone is here now. Would you like to come to the main library?"

"I will be there in a minute." The butler nodded and turned to leave the room. Evelyn sighed, she hates this part. She was going to have to meet with the family lawyer. Martin had a few long distance relatives that didn't know of their situation; ever since she married him years ago they had been kept the marriage secret. Only in the last few years had she begun to make the marriage open and legitimate, and only then because Martin had asked her.

It had made the headlines for quite a while: _'young woman marries an old rich man'._ Martin had been considered famous in the world of Archaeology, because of a few important, if relatively obscure, discoveries. She smiled at the memories. People didn't know that they had actually been married for 50 years, but even the few years they had been open had been troublesome. The family of course was furious, because they thought she was the female predator who wanted to take an advantage of a rich old man.

Evelyn didn't give a damn about the money. But she would do her duty as a legitimate wife and attend a reading of Martin's last will and testament. Evelyn walked slowly to the main library, where everyone, friends and family alike, had gathered. She had swallowed her pride and dignity about the whole thing, and thought this was not the time to think about the will. This was about a decent and remarkable man, who had died – leaving her behind. Evelyn's hand trembled, and she had to steel herself to avoid breaking down in the hall. Get a grip, damn it, she hissed to herself.

She couldn't break down like that. Not right now. She had something bigger on her mind. Benedict Thorpe had been sending his men, most amongst them immortals, to force her to tell them about the ancient Sword of Ishtanu. She would not let them to have the Sword. It was a dangerous Sword, and it would be fatal to have the Sword fall into the wrong hands. In this case, Thorpe's were the wrong hands. He had been looking for that Sword for a long time, and he would not stop.

Blinking back the hot, angry tears that were forming at the corner of her eyes, she took a deep breath and started walking towards the main library down the hall. Let's get this over with, she thought grimly.

As she stepped into the large room, a hush fell over the crowd gathered there and every eye turned towards the pale woman. Dark smudges under the eyes and cheekbones that looked a bit too hollow marred her beautiful face. Evelyn sat down and glanced around, but said nothing. She saw a woman whispering something to the next person beside her. She clinched her fist.

This was going to be a long day after all.


	10. The Connection

Methos was walking beside Amanda on the beach. There was nobody on the beach beside them; it was empty – maybe because it had been raining for days. But the rain had stopped recently, and they had decided to take a walk. The seagulls flew over above their heads, crying and squawking. Amanda glanced to Methos, who remained silent. She bit her lip, and desperately wanting to say something. She wanted to ask Methos about the woman; who she was, how old she was, how come she could read minds, etc.

Methos seemed lost on his own thoughts, and Amanda was trying to restrain herself so she wouldn't strangle Methos and demand that he tell her everything. Finally, she couldn't resist. "The weather today is not that bad." She tried to start a conversation. "LA needs some rain for once a while, instead being sunny all the time."

At that, Methos suddenly smiled with suppressed mirth, while Amanda looked at him in surprise. "Incredible." Methos said, looking at his watch. "It's been 30 minutes since we arrived at the beach. I was wondering when you were going to start questioning me. Not bad, Amanda." Methos began to chuckle, while Amanda glared at him.

"I hate you." Amanda said with an annoyed tone. But she wrapped her arms around Methos' arms and they walked together. The wind was pretty strong and began to sweep through their hair.

"You know, you should change your hair colour. Pink does not suit you." Methos commented.

"Methos!"

"Alright, alright. What do you want to know?"

"Start from: who she is."

"Just someone from my past."

"That I already figured. But how can she read minds?" Methos sighed and bent over to pick up a shell. He threw the shell into the ocean.

---

_**Flashback, 380 BC**_

After travelling together for a while, Methos and Anthea decided to get some rest near the river so the horse could had drink. They built a fire to stave off the cold afternoon. Methos sat down and groaned. "At least you could let me ride the horse longer." Methos said and cracked his back. Anthea just smiled and tapped the horse's back. "If I knew that you'd only let me ride your beast for a short time, I'd have stayed in the hills until someone generous enough to…"

"And why didn't you just stay back then?" Anthea cut into Methos' rambling.

Methos smiled. "And let a beauty pass me by when I could be near her?"

"I see. There aren't many beauties around." Anthea rolled her eyes while she still petted her horse.

"Not many beautiful immortals." Methos watched Anthea from where he sat.

She wasn't impressed by his compliment. "Aren't you afraid that I might behead you when you are not expecting it?"

"Are you going to behead me?" Methos asked amusedly.

"I might."

"You had your chance hours ago, but you didn't." Methos put his hands behind his head and lay on his back.

"Well, are you going to behead me whilst I am not looking?" She turned around and looked at Methos who was lying comfortably on the ground.

"I might."

She sighed and sat next to Methos. She watched her horse drink some water from the river and eat some grass. Methos closed his eyes and enjoyed the breeze, while Anthea just pulled her knees up to her chin. "How come a man travels by himself without a horse?" Anthea said, making a conversation.

Methos kept his eyes closed, but answered. "I gave up my horse to someone who needed it more back in previous village."

"How generous." Anthea replied. "Foolish act, but generous."

"And why a lady like you is travelling alone in this particularly barbaric place?"

She smiled and answered, "I was sent by the Head Priestess as an envoy to the Acropolis to serves the Hera Temple."

"Hera? I pay the respect I hold for the Athena to Hera. You and I must have an uncommon affinity towards one another. What kind of business did you have with the Acropolis?"

"My business is my own." She replied flatly. She pulled out a flute and started to play it. She was playing a delicate song, but Methos felt that she was holding a lot of pain. Methos stopped asking questions and listened to the music. After a while, she stopped playing. She looked at Methos who had fallen asleep while she was playing the flute. She bit her lip and looked at the red sky, the sun almost set. They might as well camp here instead continuing on to the next city.

Night came, and the stars came out. Methos was sleeping with his cloak wrapped his body. Anthea was feeling sleepy but tried her best not to sleep, because she did not trust the stranger beside him.

Never trust another immortal.

She watched him sleeping, and felt something. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate, but she couldn't read his mind. Anthea frowned a little. This was the first time she hadn't able to read another person's mind. The reason she was willing to let this stranger accompany her to the next city was because she felt that he was not a threat. Slowly, she shifted closer to Methos. She was above him, and watched him was sleeping like a baby. He was breathing normally, and his face was looking peaceful. Carefully, she didn't want to wake him up – she brought her hand to touch his forehead.

With a sudden movement, Methos grabbed her hand and turned her over. Methos pinned her to the ground, and she was struggling underneath Methos' bodyweight.

"Let go of me!" Methos was laughing, but still holding her to the ground. They were face to face and Methos realised he was gazing deep into her blue eyes. He decided they were the most beautiful eyes he ever saw. Anthea gritted her teeth and cursed at him.

"You brought this on yourself." Methos said.

"I merely wanted to touch your forehead!"

Methos raised his eyebrow, and laughed again. "My forehead? What fascination do you have with my forehead?"

"Please let me go." Anthea said desperately.

"Tell me what you want." Methos said softly.

"I just…" Anthea stopped, but Methos was waiting. "I want to read your mind."

Methos released Anthea instantly. Anthea sat up quickly, while Methos was eyeing her. They both were sitting on the ground, but neither of them was moving.

"Are you some kind of sorcerer?" Methos asked carefully.

Anthea scoffed and fixed her hair. "I am not."

"Then what are you?"

"I have some kind of gift. That is why I joined the priesthood."

"And you decided out of nowhere to read my thoughts?"

"I do not know your intentions are, but I must take precautions."

"By reading my thoughts?"

"Yes."

Methos watched her shifted uncomfortably as he watched her with curiosity. She was going to stand up when Methos held her hands suddenly. She was surprised of his act, and looked at him questioningly. "What if you do not like what I am thinking?" Methos asked gently. Anthea didn't answer. The thought hadn't cross her mind; she had merely wanted to read his mind to found out whether he was dangerous man or not – she never trusted any immortal. But this man would be with her, at least until the next city and she didn't want to take any chances.

Methos was still holding her hands. Slowly he placed her hands on his temples. Anthea was surprised by Methos' act, but as he let her hands go, she closed her eyes and concentrated.

_Images… _

_Images were flashing back and forth._

_The four horsemen were riding their horses._

_A burning village._

_People, screaming._

_Swords, slashing._

_Riders with dark cloaks and swords._

_Deaths everywhere…_

Anthea couldn't breathe. Methos watched her trembling and shivering, and he saw tears were rolling down her cheeks. She was gasping and crying but seemed unable to drop her hands. He grabbed her hands, and her eyes snapped open. She was breathing hard and stared at him. Methos wouldn't have been surprised if she stood up and left him, although he didn't know what she saw in his mind. It must have been bad, he decided, because she looked at him with unexplained emotion. "What did you see?" He asked softly.

Anthea didn't answer; her hands were still in Methos' grip. Her tears rolled down through her cheeks. When she finally answered, her voice cracked. "Misery..." Methos didn't comment on this. He sighed; he guessed his secret was out. Anthea looked down, ashamed. She had just looked inside somebody's secret, a painful secret. A secret as deep as hers, and just as private.

Methos didn't have to read her mind, to know that she too was keeping a deep secret. At some level, he also knew that she was in pain. Slowly, without thinking he brought his head down for a kiss. After a while, he drew back. Anthea was staring at him with wide eyes. Methos chuckled a little, feeling embarrassed. Anthea touched her lips and then brought her fingers to Methos' lips. Methos held her fingers and kissed it.

Not thinking at all, they closed the distance between them and they passionately kissed until they couldn't breathe and broke the kiss. Anthea tried to say something, but Methos leaned down and caught her mouth in a tantalizing kiss. He put his hands on her back, and laid her down on the ground. The stars were very bright that night, but they didn't notice.

---

"And then what happened?" Amanda asked eagerly.

Methos shrugged and threw another shell into the waves. "I don't remember."

"What?"

"It was a long time ago."

"Liar!" She put her hands on her hips. "Don't stand there and tell me that you don't remember what happen next – did you leave her or she left you, or WHAT!" Amanda almost shrieked.

Methos was laughing hard. "Amanda, it happened centuries ago! I barely recognized her, and you expect me to tell you what happened?" It was a lie. Methos didn't feel to tell her what happened. He needed to keep this one for himself, at least for a while. After all, Amanda was his friend.

"Don't give me that crap! Something did happen between you two."

"Possibly." Methos shrugged. Amanda gave an exasperated sigh. Methos looked at the ocean and said something with a distance voice. "Amanda, what happened between Evelyn and I was a long time ago. It something that just happened in a course of our lives, and we've lived a very long time."

"But you guys meet again, after all these…centuries. Do you think it means anything?"

"Amanda, I don't know all the answers. We'll just see. Right now, let's concentrate on something more important here."

"Do you think she'll tell us about the Sword?"

"I am not sure, Amanda." Methos answered. Amanda sighed and linked arms again with Methos, and the two of them walked along together on the beach.

---

Joe was online on his laptop. He'd just closed the bar and got online to the Watcher's files. His cellular phone rang, and he picked it up. "Dawson's here."

"We have some news regarding the Sword." Rob. the Watcher was calling from the Headquarters. The HQ was busy with all the Watchers observing and receiving reports about immortals and banks of monitors recording immortal activities.

"Spill it out."

"The words on the street say that not only the Sword is the "Prize", it also has incredible power of immortality." Joe frowned hearing this.

"What do you mean?"

"It's only a rumour, but it's spread like crazy on the street. Half of immortal population packed their bags and started searching for the Sword. The rumour mentions that the very first immortal invented this Sword, which is why it has become the Prize." Rob was reading from his report. He was a bit worried too.

"Damn. If we're not careful, there is going to be blood bath and possible a war between immortals to get their hands on the Sword." Joe said, worry edging his voice.

"We don't have that many Watchers, sir. We've got our hands full with each immortal that has already been assigned to us."

"Set up a Watchers meeting. We need to get through this, and to prevent any possible public Gathering." Joe hung up his phone, and he typed something on the website.

_Yellow Alert: Possible Gathering_


	11. The Tale

Evelyn dropped bunch of papyrus scrolls on the table. Amanda and Methos just looked at them. Evelyn took one of the papyrus scrolls and gave it to Methos. "Read it."

"My hieroglyph is a little rusty nowadays." Methos said with a shrug.

"Just read it, and I'll explain later." Evelyn said sternly.

Methos glanced to Amanda who just shrugged. Methos opened the scroll and read it. "The year of Menkaura of Fourth Age… here follows the account of Ishtanu, High Pharaoh of Hieracleopolis, and the making of the Sword of Immortality." Methos frowned while reading this. He never heard of Pharaoh Ishtanu of Hieracleopolis. Back in the Ancient Egypt, there were many Pharaohs or landlords.

"Keep reading." Evelyn sat on the table, while Amanda was sitting in one of the chairs in the library of the mansion.

Methos murmured to himself, but kept reading the scroll. "Egypt is weak and we need a strong ruler to lead. Those mortals of Pharaohs claim that they are gods and build pyramids as their final resting places, but in reality only people who can live forever are gods."

---

_**Flashback, Hieracleopolis 2498 BC**_

Methos voice over

"_The Pharaohs are challenging my power with their Pyramids. I have to prove them that I am destined to be their leader. Thus I am making the most powerful weapon ever built, the weapon of immortals. I have to call upon the dark magic of Akkadians and craft the strongest blade of all time; thus I became god when I take my first head…"_

Ishtanu was fighting another immortal, while his followers watched from a safe distance. Finally he defeated the immortal and beheaded him. He raised his arms to the air as the sky became dark and there was lightning and thunder. The lightning struck him and the wind whirled around him, and his blade shattered. Ishtanu dropped to his knees and took the shattered blades whilst the people watched in horror. He walked along the street, carrying the broken weapon, and gave it to his dark magicians.

"_I have learnt all the dark magic and with the help of my loyal Akkadians priests, I put all of my soul into the ultimate weapon; The Sword of Ishtanu."_

The Sword of Ishtanu was created; it was a great sword with a scarab beetle made of emerald as the eye. Ishtanu spun the sword and laid waste to the armies of men and the alliance. He proclaimed himself Pharaoh of Hieracleopolis and ruled with an iron fist.

"_Many mortals have tried to defeat me but they have not succeeded. Until one day a mortal blinded me with his petty dagger."_

A man slashed his dagger to Ishtanu's eyes and blinded him. Ishtanu killed the mortal, but cried in pain and agony while his eyes were bleeding. He was put into a chamber and some priests tried to heal him, but with no result. He was permanently blind. The Pharaohs of Egypt made an alliance to defeat him, by attacking Hieracleopolis, for this was only one chance to defeat the tyrant. The war between Pharaohs and Ishtanu's followers took almost 2 years, while Ishtanu sat inside his chamber, healing himself. He couldn't see, but it didn't stop him being able to slay entire armies with the swings of his sword. Finally all the mortals have been defeated, and Ishtanu once again gained his victory.

---

Methos stopped reading the scroll, and remained silent. He felt his blood was boiling with rage. Amanda covered her mouth in disbelief while Evelyn just watched both of them without saying anything.

"The Sword, what happened to it?" Amanda's voice was cracking. She couldn't believe that such horror had happened, even back then. Methos was clinching his fist; he had never heard of Pharaoh Ishtanu.

Evelyn took another scroll. "This is another version about the Sword, with an explanation about what happened to the Sword afterwards." She read it. "It began when High Pharaoh Ishtanu of Hieracleopolis made a terrible and powerful sword. He defeated all the mortals that stood in his path on the road to world conquest. All hopes were gone, and then, without warning, an immortal came forth to challenge him to a duel." Evelyn sighed and rolled the scroll. "Apparently this papyrus scroll text was unclear, they didn't mention any names – but I managed to translated most of the scrolls many years ago, and this what happened then..."

---

_**Flashback, Hieracleopolis 2496 BC**_

Evelyn's voice over

"_A man was standing in front of the blind High Pharaoh Ishtanu, challenging him to a battle to the death. Because the man was an immortal and different from the rest of the mortals' men, he was not easily defeated. The Sword of Ishtanu seemed to have its own will and look to take control of Ishtanu's body – hence the tyrant was overcome by the blade forged from his own dark soul."_

The battle took 3 days and 3 nights, and both men grew tired. Ishtanu's blindness almost made him insane but the Sword wouldn't let him rest, thus he kept battling the immortal. They didn't realize when they reached the temple of Gods. It didn't occur to them to remember that the temple was a place of sanctuary and immortals were forbidden to fight inside it, at the cost of angering the gods themselves.

The temple they were fighting was the temple of Seth, a place where the God of Seth was worshipped. Whilst they were fighting inside, the ground began to shake. People were frightened and ran from the street when they saw the sky turn red as blood. The sun was eclipsed in darkness.

Ishtanu screamed in his confusion, "What happen!"

He couldn't see what was going on around them, but he felt the ground shake and it seemed the temple was about to fall. The other immortal took the opportunity to disarm Ishtanu, and struck at the sword. The Sword flew over to the corner, and Ishtanu went insane in the moment of wrenching separation. He was stumbled around, blindly scrabbling for the blade.

It was a horrifically pathetic scene, and the other immortal finished Ishtanu's misery by a swing of his sword, beheading him. Ishtanu was finally defeated. After his beheading, he felt a great trembling around him. A wind and some form of electricity grabbed him and threw him to the ground. The fight had taken place on holy ground, and with a flash the retribution was taken.

The immortal vanished as though he had never been.

---

Evelyn put down the scroll and looked up to Methos and Amanda. Amanda had been holding her breath the entire, while Methos remained speechless, his face dumb struck. "I was digging near the ruined city of Hieracleopolis back in the 18th century when I found these scrolls; it's the city of Alexandria now. After I translated the whole thing, I made a decision to look for the Sword." She took another scroll and spread it across the table. She pointed to the text on the scroll.

"What is it?" Amanda asked.

"These texts weren't written by the Watchers; they were written by the priests in ancient times. After the duel, the priests were keeping the Sword in a safe place somewhere." She was going to say something, when Amanda cut her words.

"How do you know about the Watchers?"

Evelyn gave Amanda a wry smile. "Sweetie, I've been living for four _thousand_ years. So basically yeah, I know a thing or two about the Watchers."

Amanda looked at her in shock. "You're 4000 years old? That's... pretty old!"

Evelyn bit her lip, while Methos looked away and touched his nose bridge. Realization dawned on Amanda's face, and she chuckled in embarrassment. She nodded and let Evelyn finished her story. "The priests realized that they had to put the Sword into somewhere safe, so that no human being will find it. _Ever_. The evil power was too much, and the priests guarded the Sword in a temple."

"What happen if someone finds the blade?" Methos asked.

"It will make them evil." She answered.

"What do you mean?"

"The Sword is evil." Evelyn explained. "And it fed on human souls. Especially those of immortals'"

"What about the rumours mentioning the Prize?" Amanda asked.

Evelyn sighed and sat on the edge of the desk. "I was afraid it would come to this. An immortal name Benedict Thorpe is looking for Ishtanu's Sword; he and I met years ago. Apparently one of his men found one of the scrolls that contain information about the Sword and I had to kill him."

"So you know where the sword is hidden?" Amanda asked.

Evelyn shook her head. "But Benedict Thorpe is spreading rumours about the Prize so that people will looking for it, and when they do…"

"Thorpe will steal it." Methos finished the sentence. "He doesn't have to break a sweat." Evelyn didn't answers. She gathered all the scrolls together, as if concluding the meeting. Methos glanced up. "What gives?"

"I am not going to help you finding that blade." She said as a matter factly.

"What?" Amanda was in shock. Evelyn walked out of the library with the scrolls, followed by Amanda. "You can't do that. You have to help us!"

"Says who?" Evelyn asked with a scoff.

"Don't you care that the blade might fall to the wrong hands?" Amanda asked in a hurry. Methos was just looked at her with a frown. He was thinking about something, and he was looking at Evelyn.

Evelyn stopped and looked at Amanda. "Listen, I told you the story about the Sword. But that's the only thing that I can do. I am not going to help you find that evil blade; let it buried until the end of time."

"What if Thorpe finds it?"

"He won't." Evelyn sneered. "At least not without my help."

"So you know how to find the sword?" Amanda asked eagerly.

"Probably, but I am not telling." Evelyn turned on her heels and walked away. Amanda was aghast. She turned to Methos who was standing at the door, watching as Evelyn walked away.

"Can you believe her?" Amanda said to Methos. Methos didn't say a word, but he was thinking very hard. He walked past Amanda and followed Evelyn. Amanda gave a grunt of annoyance.

"Evelyn…" Methos caught up with her.

She held up her hand. "I already told you what I know. But I won't help in finding it."

"I'm not going to ask that." Methos said to her. Evelyn frowned and stopped walking. "I'm going to ask you to talk to my friend. He's a Watcher."

"Oh, really? And why would I do that?" She raised her eyebrow. "I thought you don't want to get involved."

"These tales about magic blade, evil one that is – well, someone has to acknowledge it. Just in case something terrible does happen." He shrugged.

Evelyn scoffed. "Something terrible _is_ going to happen. The day that Thorpe found out about an ancient Sword that can rule the world, the world that we know is coming to an end."

"Pessimistic one, aren't we?" Methos said calmly. Evelyn rolled her eyes and made ready to leave Methos behind, when he grabbed her arm. "Look, I don't like the situation either. I didn't know that I would get involve in this. I'd rather take a vacation to the Galapagos Island – I heard it's very nice this time of year." Evelyn opened her mouth to comment, but Methos cut her off. "But then again, I can't go to Galapagos when the world is coming to an end!" Evelyn just glared to Methos, while Methos stubbornly stood in front of her. He released her arm, but still blocked her way. She tightened her jaw but didn't say anything. They were standing in the hallway near the window.

She looked at him with curiousity. She said slowly, "Why are you doing this?"

Methos didn't answered at first. He looked at her with unrecognizeable emotion. Back then she couldn't read his mind, and now she couldn't either. Methos was a man with enigmatic presence. And he always was. Methos only answered, "I don't know." He looked her in the eyes. "But I want you to think about it. Just in case."

She sighed finally and nodded. "Fine. I'll think about it, but that's it."

"Thank you." They didn't say anything afterwards, just looked into each other, lost in their own thoughts. When Methos began to speak finally, she cut him off.

"I've got to put these back." She muttered and walked away from him. Methos sighed and watched her receding back.

---

A car stopped in front of the gate to the mansion, and a guard approached it. The window rolled down. Four men sat inside, smiling. "Excuse me, gentlemen. This is private property. May I ask what business you have here?" The guard asked.

The driver pulled out a silencer. "This." And then he shot him. The guard was dead before he hit the ground.


	12. The Decision

Amanda joined Methos and crossed her arms. "Well?"

He shrugged. "I never wanted to find the Sword anyway."

Amanda snorted in disgust. "What is it with you guys? Most people are willing to risk their neck for the adventure of a lifetime."

"I am not one of them. Oh, I am all for adventures and all – but risking my neck is not exactly a definition of adventure." He pinched Amanda's cheek. She pushed his hands away and glared at him.

"You're no fun." She scoffed. "Beside Methos, there are times when we have a chance to do something right."

Methos smiled and brushed her aside and walked away. "Speak for yourself. Yes, I love those times. I wonder what happened to them." Amanda grunted and started to walk out too when she and Methos suddenly felt a buzz. She stopped and turned around. Methos frowned and walked to the window. He saw four men were walking on the garden, all with unfriendly faces. "Oh, bollocks." Methos swore.

Amanda looked past his shoulder through the window and gasped. The mansion guards tried to stop the quartet, attempting to intimidate them with their guns. One of the newcomers shot the first guard whilst another threw a dagger at the second guard and killed them. The guards returned fire, killing one of their assailants. The other three men pulled their guns also, and the ensuing fusillade slaughtered the remaining guards.

"Oh my God!" Amanda gasped. The men looked up and saw Methos and Amanda standing on the window. They pointed their auto rifles and unleashed hail of fire.

"Get down!" Methos yelled. He and Amanda hit the floor, amidst shattering glass and the angry hornet buzzing of bullets and ricochets. And then it stopped. Methos' ears were ringing, and he had gash on his forehead because of the shattered glass. Amanda cursed as she took stock of her own injuries. Slowly and carefully, they stood up. They peered out, but the men were gone.

"They're on their way here. Bastards!" Amanda muttered angrily.

"We have to find Eve." Methos said. Together they stood up quickly and turned to go, when another burst of gunfire shattered a nearby vase.

"Run!" Methos and Amanda sprinted down the hallway, bullets flying after them. They were running as fast as they could, and turned left into the kitchen. They saw the maids and the butlers standing in the corner, frightened. "Where's Eve?!" Amanda shouted and shut the kitchen's door.

"She is in the basement." Answered one of the butlers. Some of the maids began to cry.

Methos peeked through the door and looked at the hallway. "Is there any back door?" They nodded. "Okay, first thing first – you guys get out from here as soon as possible."

"Shouldn't we call the police?" One maid asked. Amanda and Methos looked at each other.

"Yeah, sure. Do whatever you must do, but just get the hell out from here first!" Without saying anything, the butlers and the maids fled the scene through the back door. Methos pulled out a gun and cocked it. Amanda eyes' widened, and she gaped. "What the hell?!"

"What do you expect?" He breathed aloud. "Those guys are prepared. I'm sure as hell going to be prepared myself." Amanda was panicking. She bit her knuckles and looked for something that could be use to defend herself. She grabbed a frying pan and held it in front of her. Methos looked at her and frowned.

"What?" She barked.

Methos didn't answer, but he took a deep breath, opened the door and aimed the gun to the hallway. There were three men were walking up the hallway towards them; when they saw Methos and the gun at them, they quickly hid behind the pillars. Methos fired three shots and backed inside the kitchen. "Still saying this is some kind of adventure?" Methos muttered. "I hate this."

"Let's get out from here!" Amanda shrieked. She had never liked the idea of being bombarded by bullets. She preferred one-on-one battle, close up and personal.

"Yeah, lets!" Amanda and Methos bolted to the back door, when five rounds hit the door from outside the hallway. One man kicked the door open, and Methos yanked open a refrigerator door and pulled Amanda behind it as the man opened fire. His shots hit the metal door, whereupon Methos returned fire. A gurgle was the only noise the man made as he died.

Amanda rushed toward the hallway door and kicked it into the man behind it. He yelped in pain, but before he could react, Amanda bashed his skull with the frying pan. He dropped right in front of the door. "Yikes!" She squealed.

Methos threw his gun away. "I'm out."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but there's one more guy left." Amanda was holding the pan like a shield. They ran to the back door, and then they were outside the backyard. "Where's the car?"

"In the parking lot – in front yard!" Methos yelled.

They were going back when they heard someone shouted at them to stop: "Hold it right there!" Methos and Amanda stopped in their track. Amanda gulped and slowly raised her hands, with one hand holding a pan. Methos followed her act. They turned around slowly and found themselves face to face with a man holding an automatic rifle. His temple was bleeding. "You shot me damn it!" He shouted.

"You shot us first, idiot!" Amanda shouted back in defiance. "Whatever happened with the rules of the Game? Did you forget to use a freaking sword?!"

"Amanda…" Methos muttered.

"Where is that archaeologist?" The man asked quietly.

"How do we bloody know?" Methos answered.

"No matter. Tell me where we can find the Prize."

"Again, how the hell we should know?" Methos answered with an annoyed tone.

"Don't play games with me!" He croaked.

Amanda was so angry; she almost burst into flame and launched herself at the man. But then she felt a buzz, as did Methos and their captor. They looked backup the passageway to see Evelyn, walking towards them with an old rifle pointed at the gunman. She cocked the firearm with a decisive click.

"What the hell did you do to my house?" Evelyn yelled. "You killed my guards!"

The guy laughed, his automatic rifle still pointed at Methos and Amanda. "Tell me where we can find the Prize and then I won't kill your friends."

"Tell me who sent you and I won't blow your brains out."

"You know you can't kill me, lady."

"You know you can't kill them either, so don't play with me!"

"If I were you, I think you should put the weapon down. My friends will come alive soon and they will…" Evelyn didn't let him finish his sentence. She fired at the man's hands with a loud bang, and his rifle skidded across the ground, bloody. He screamed in pain; both of his hands were torn and bleeding badly.

Amanda leaped on the man with frying pan on her hand. Methos grabbed her, trying to stop her bashing their would-be captor's head. "Amanda!"

"Let me go, let me kill this son of a bitch!" She roared.

"Wait." Evelyn walked to the guy, who was kneeling down and writhing in pain. "This is getting out of a hand. You keep coming and coming back. Give me one good reason that I shouldn't let that woman torture you."

The guy looked at Amanda in fear. In her hands, even a frying pan seemed a terrible weapon – maybe even worse than a sword. He gulped. "We were sent by the organization. A man gave us our orders. I don't know his name, but he's Benedict Thorpe's associate."

"Thorpe again." Methos murmured.

"Why are they after me?" Evelyn asked.

"Thorpe ordered us to watch your every move, just in case you're going to look for the Prize. But his associate – I swear I don't know his name – ordered us to kidnap you." He was staring to his bloody hands. Why they didn't recover fast enough?

"Kidnap me?"

"Yeah." He winced in pain. "In order to get to the Prize fast. You have all the information about the Prize, so basically you know how to find it."

"What about those immortals who challenged me weeks ago?" She asked.

"The information about you knowing how to find the Prize leaked out, and some guys just dropped out of the organization to find the Prize for themselves…" He seemed very tired and wanted to cry.

"And why didn't you drop of the organization to look for it for yourself?"

"Hey lady, I just become an immortal not a long time ago. I am not interested in the Game, just the money." He winced in pain again, when suddenly they heard police sirens.

"Bugger." Methos said. "My car is out front."

"We take my car. It's on the back parking lot." Evelyn said.

"And how do we avoid authorities?" Methos asked.

"We cut through somebody's lawn and drive to the highway." Evelyn answered shortly. They were leaving the bleeding guy, but Amanda was still in front of him.

"Amanda!" Methos called her.

Amanda gritted her teeth, "Too bad you're not battling me, you wuss. I'd take pleasure to cut your head off." Amanda hammered the guy's head with the frying pan. He was knocked out cold. She snorted, threw the frying pan to the ground and ran to the back parking lot. They quickly scrambled into Evelyn's Porsche and drove away from the mansion, fast – by cutting to the neighbours' lawn and straight to the highway. Evelyn's jaw was clenched as she drove, with Methos sitting next to her and fumbling with the seatbelts. Amanda was stuck in the small back seat.

"We're going to the airport and from there we'll take my private plane." Evelyn said.

"Are we going somewhere?" Methos asked.

"I guess I don't have much choice about helping you find that damn Sword anymore."

"Does this mean you'll talk to my friend?"

Evelyn grunted. And Methos considered that as a 'yes'.

---

Carl was speaking on the phone when Benedict Thorpe walked in. Thorpe walked to his desk and opening up a box of chocolates, and put one in his mouth. Carl hung up the phone. "Sir, I got another call from Los Angeles. Our guys attacked the mansion in full force."

"What?" He almost choked. "I didn't order an attack! I want her alive!"

Carl just shrugged. "It was him, sir. He ordered the attack."

"Stupid old fool! What happened to her?"

"She got away."

"To where?" Thorpe picked another chocolate.

"Paris, France."

Thorpe frowned upon hearing this. "Paris? Are you sure about that?"

"Yes, sir. With other immortals."

Thorpe stopped chewing. "What immortals?"

"Our spy reported she was with two immortals. One of them is known as Raven, a famous thief."

Thorpe put another chocolate into his mouth. "Well, this is an interesting development."

"What shall we do?"

"Follow them."

"Consider it done." Carl then walked out from the room. Thorpe was going to put another piece of chocolate into his mouth when he felt a buzz. He turned around to face the man walking into his room. He was walking with an ancient cane made of gold.

"How goes the search for the Sword of Immortality?" He asked with a gruff voice.

"Don't give me that shit. You gave orders to my men!"

"A move needed to be made. I do not like your methods. In my days…"

"You wouldn't even survive without me! I found you, remember! Don't ever usurp my authority again!" Thorpe was shouted at top of his voice. The man limped slowly over to Thorpe. Suddenly he grabbed Thorpe's neck and began to choke him with one hand. Thorpe struggled to break free, but the old man's grip was like iron.

"Find that Sword. I must have it…" He whispered. Thorpe tried to say something, but he could only gasp for air, his face turned purple. The man loosened his grip and Thorpe slumped down, rubbing his neck. The old man turned and limped out the office, his golden cane tapping a regular rhythm on the floor.


	13. The News

_**Paris, Le Blues Café**_

Methos, Amanda and Evelyn walked in to Joe's bar. It was particularly very crowded. There was a young man playing an acoustic guitar on the stage; he was singing a French version of Elvis Costello's _"Allison"_. Amanda and Evelyn sat at one of the empty tables near the bar, while Methos went looking for Joe. He asked one of the bartenders, and following the bartender's hand signal went to the back room.

Methos knocked on the door to Joe's office, and opened it. Joe was talking to a guy, and he stopped talking while looking at Methos with wide eyes. He was a bit shocked to see him. Methos quickly noted there was a Watcher's tattoo on the other man's arm. "Sorry to interrupt, Joe, but I need to talk to you."

"We're in the middle of an important discussion, _Adam_." Joe gritted his teeth. The other Watcher frowned at the intrusion.

"So I see, but this is _way_ more important." Methos said with a smile.

Joe sighed and nodded to the Watcher. "We'll continue this, Rob." The Watcher left with an acknowledging nod. He passed Methos at the door and swept past without a word, but not without stealing a glance towards Methos. Rob seemed recognized Methos but didn't say anything.

Waiting until the other man was out of earshot, Methos commented: "You guys recruit more and more young agents nowadays."

"They're more efficient for the fieldwork. What do you want? And where the hell have you been? It has been somewhat chaotic out there." Joe said grudgingly.

"What happened?" Methos asked.

"Immortals seem to losing the ability to control their temper. There have been six whacking in the last two weeks in Paris alone." Joe clenched his fist and hit the desk. "And there's nothing we can do about it! And this is all because of the rumours that have been spreading like wildfire through the immortal networks."

Methos took the file that Rob the Watcher had left on the desk and began to glance through it, but Joe snatched it away. "I was going to read that." Methos said.

"Where have you been?" Joe asked in annoyed tone.

"I actually have information about the 'Prize', but I guess you won't need my help."

"You?" Joe scoffed. "Giving out information? Since when?"

"Joe that actually hurt. I was part of the Watchers, wasn't I? Besides, I think this is a case of the pot calling the kettle black." Methos said in a cheerful tone.

"Touché."

"Anyway, I know that the rumours aren't true." Methos said with a shrug.

Joe cocked his eyebrow. "Really? I hope you're telling me the truth, because those things are really giving me a headache."

Methos was fiddling with a pen from Joe's desk. "Consider it part of the job. And I thought they were promoting you?"

"They've been pulling me out of the teaching position at the academy for a while, because of this." Joe scratched his chin. "We're going to be having a meeting soon, and I have nothing."

"Right. Isn't it nice to be back in the field?" Methos patted Joe's back.

"What do you want, Methos?" Joe sighed.

"The rumour about the Prize is not true. But there is something you should know about the Sword. It's evil." Methos said in a serious tone.

"But of course." Joe snorted. "Why not? It only makes my job easier."

"You're being sarcastic." Methos grinned. "I brought a friend. She knows about this stuff."

"_She_?" Joe looked at Methos. "So what else is new…?" He muttered.

"Amanda is here too." Informed Methos.

"I don't want to see Amanda, not now. She was arguing with her rookie immortal boyfriend who it seems can't hold his temper for even five minutes. Thank God he doesn't go on a killing spree." Joe was talking about Nick Wolfe, Amanda's so-called-boyfriend.

"Not her, someone else. She's…old, and knows about the Sword." Methos said carefully.

Joe frowned hearing this. "Old? How old?"

Methos grimaced. "Four thousand years old."

Joe's eyes widened. He took his cane and tried to stand up. "Four _thousand_ years old?!" He whispered in shock. "How come I've never heard about this before? Who the hell is she?"

"Take it easy, Joe. You're going to have a heart attack." Methos took a step back. Sometimes he wished that Joe never lose his temper.

"First these rumours, and then there you are, standing in front of me, claiming you brought along a 4000 years old immortal? She must be the oldest female immortal around." Joe pointed Methos with his cane.

Methos brushed it away, and rolled his eyes. "Well, she is not the oldest immortal around."

"Oh, with the exception of you, of course." Joe sarcastically said.

"Look, could you just meet her? She is kinda cranky, what with all the different time zone and things that are happening, and time is something that we don't have right now."

"What are you talking about?"

"I am talking about how the world is going to end."

Joe stared at him.

---

Joe and Methos walked into the crowded bar room. Methos was looking for the women, when he spotted Amanda sitting alone. Amanda was drinking, and then she saw Methos and Joe. She waved and gave a signal to them to come sit down. "Joe! Long time no see." Amanda said. Joe just nodded uncomfortably while Methos sat down next to Amanda. "So how's life?"

"It sucks. As ever." He sat down. "And I guess it's going to be worse." He glared to Methos who was ordering a glass of beer.

"Where's Evelyn?" Methos asked Amanda. She just smiled and pointed to the stage. Joe and Methos looked to the stage to see Evelyn sitting on a chair, holding a guitar and singing on stage. Both men were surprised, though for different reasons.

"Evelyn Hope? You brought me Evelyn Hope? She's the oldest one? _Her_?!" Joe was in shock. No wonder Rob was able to meet him in Paris, because he was Evelyn's Watcher. And Evelyn was here in Paris with Amanda and Methos. He wondered whether Rob knew that Methos was an immortal. For the sake of Methos, he'd hope Rob didn't know.

Methos didn't answer. He was watching Evelyn sing _"Smokes and Ashes"_ by Tracy Chapman with her guitar. Her voice was beautiful, and brought the conversation in the room to a standstill as all heads turned to the stage in rapt attention. To Methos, it seemed that the bar was empty.

There was only Evelyn, singing.

---

In the furthest corner of the bar, a man sat alone, nursing a drink. He watched the woman on stage attentively for a few moments longer, before reaching into his pocket for his phone. Taking it out, he dialed a number.

"Mr. Thorpe? She's here." He listened to the voice on the other end of the line. "No, she's not alone. Yeah, I'll find out who they are." He hung up, finished the drink, and raised the empty glass to the stage in a salute to the woman still singing out her soul.

_I'm crying all the time  
Salty stinging tears  
And mourning for the past carbon-dated years  
But knowing now for certain that you were always right  
Because if a breeze could blow you out of my life  
It's only smoke and ashes baby  
Only smoke and ashes baby _


	14. The Rain

_Darkness is both friend and enemy  
The foolish and unwary find surprises  
And among them, death awaits._

***

Joe was sitting in front of his laptop, and he had a headache. His cellular phone hadn't stopped ringing for the last three hours straight. Most of the calls were from his associates and the field agents. Most of them had suddenly lost the immortals they had been assigned to observe, and reports from the Watchers Chronicles' database had been undergoing changes for the past 48 hours or so.

"Oslo… two deaths," he murmured whilst reading the report from his laptop. "Singapore: one death." He cracked his back loudly and sniffed. He thought he might be coming down with the flu. "They should make pills for this…" he sighed, and continued to read from his laptop. "Tokyo; one death…"

He snorted in disgust.

***

The room was dark. The only light came from the window, against which the rain seemed to beat incessantly. Brief flashes of lightning occasionally illuminated the room and the old immortal in the rocking chair. His eyes were closed but his breathing was heavy, and he rocked back and forth slowly. His cane lay beside him.

He was muttering something in foreign language.

"Vengeance will be mine…" He hissed.

***

Methos' eyes snapped open, and he awoke with a start.

That was a weird dream. A man, sitting on a rocking chair in a dark room; his face obscured by shadow. But something about the man had jolted him into wakefulness. It sent a chill down his spine, somehow. But after all the dreams that had flitted through his mind in the past few months, he was used to dreaming about weird things.

He stared at the ceiling, and for a second he couldn't tell where he was. He looked around and found that he was sleeping on a bed, and he realized that he was in his own apartment in Paris. He sighed as he recollected the events of the past week. Methos groaned and tried walking to the bathroom. Joe was pissed with the whole thing. The Watchers were being all mysterious for no reason at all, and all Joe would tell him was that he had sent three Watchers to watch over them. He and Joe argued about that…

Evelyn said that the best way to save the world was to let the Sword stay buried, but Joe argued that Thorpe might find it and he would definitely use it for his benefit. Not to mention that every forsaken immortal on the planet was looking for the Sword, due to the rumours that the Sword was _THE _ Prize.

Methos was brushing his teeth when suddenly he felt a buzz.

He spat and walked out of the bathroom in time to hear a pounding on the door and Amanda yelling his name. "Methos! Open the damn door!" Methos sighed and walked to the door. Amanda could be a pain in the ass sometimes, and he couldn't believe that he had once said to Macleod that he would date her. What a stupid thing to say.

"You know, you really have got to stop with this coming to my apartment uninvited." He opened the door and Amanda brushed past him and walked straight into the kitchen. She was wet. "Thomas Edison invented the telephone; how come you don't use it?"

"Because it was Alexander Graham Bell, stupid." Amanda was in really a bad mood; she opened the fridge and grabbed a beer bottle. "I thought you'd met the guy." Methos sighed and hung his head, and the door suddenly flung open again, almost knocking him flying. Evelyn came in with a big suitcase and holding a wet umbrella, the water dripping to the floor. Methos groaned.

"Good morning Methos," she said and threw the briefcase to him. "Thank you for helping me with the suitcase, Amanda," she said sarcastically. Amanda just shrugged and drank the beer straight from the bottle.

"What the bloody hell is this?" said Methos. "Why are you even in my apartment?"

"You just got up, you lazy git?" Evelyn commented and looked at him, noticed that Methos wasn't wearing a shirt. "It's 11 o'clock." She decided that she liked what she saw.

"I still have a jet lag, okay?" Methos looked at the heavy suitcase. "Could someone tell me what's going on?" Amanda burped and Methos looked at her. "It is morning and you're finishing my beer supplies."

"Oh shut up, Methos. You can buy a dozen of beers easily, and don't tell me you never drink before lunch."

Methos blinked and put the suitcase on the table, while Evelyn just snickered. "What's wrong with you?"

"Some problem with her boyfriend, or something." said Evelyn. "We met downstairs. It's pouring outside."

"Why are you here?" Methos asked again, with an annoyed tone.

"You're coming to Egypt with us," said Evelyn. "We're going to find that Sword."

Methos gaped. "I don't want to go to Egypt!"

"Tough luck. You're the one who came to me, and now I'm available. We are going now."

Methos grumbled, "I'll get the coffee." He turned around when Evelyn tried to say something, cutting her off. "I need my coffee!"

***

Dark clouds were covering the whole city and the rain was pouring. People were hurrying about with their umbrellas. Some teenagers were playing and laughing in the deluge. Methos closed the trunk of his car after throwing in his travel bag, and hurriedly got inside. Evelyn was sitting on the passenger side, with Amanda in the back seat. Methos closed the car door and huffed. "This weather blows."

Evelyn looked up. "It's been like this for weeks now. I'm worried about this weather…"

Methos frowned. "It just rain."

"Maybe," she answered shortly. Methos started the engine, looked in his rear mirror and saw Amanda sulking.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked.

"Nick refuses to pick up the phone," Amanda answered. Methos rolled his eyes. "He went ballistic when I told him that I was going with you guys. I tried to call him since last night but he didn't pick up the damn phone."

Methos didn't comment on that, but from the corner of his eyes he could see that Evelyn was shaking her head. They drove away finally, failing to notice the intent look of the driver of the vehicle directly behind them. A quick cell phone call went out from the second car. "They just left. We're going with the plan, now." The man nodded to his heavily armed compatriots, and pulled out after the three Immortals.

Methos was driving silently. Evelyn was trying to reach someone through her cell phone, while Amanda was muttering something to herself. Rain was still pouring from the sky and the wipers were making screeching noises. Methos wiped the foggy glass with his palm. A traffic light went red ahead and he stopped the car. Evelyn sighed, "I can't reach my lawyer. I have to know what happened with my house in LA."

Methos didn't answer - he was frowning. He could see a car pulling up behind their own car and recognised it from the hotel. It too had slowed to a stop at the red light. They were being followed. Methos looked at the red light and cursed a little at its tardiness in turning green. Before he knew what was happening, the other vehicle's doors were slung open and the passengers clambered out, guns in their hands. "Shit."

Amanda and Evelyn looked round and gasped. They were surrounded suddenly, the muzzles of more than a dozen guns pointed at them. One of the men gave a sign to them to open the doors. Methos was going to step on the gas when one of the men said, very deliberately, "Don't… even… try." He cocked the gun ostentatiously. Methos set his jaw, but refrained from moving. Another of their captors opened Evelyn's door and grabbed her arm. She struggled, hitting him in the stomach. Without a warning, a shot rang out. The slug hit her in the chest, and Evelyn dropped like a sack of potatoes. She whimpered once, and died.

Methos and Amanda reacted instantly; without a word, both of them kicked open their doors together, catching the men outside. Methos threw a punch to the stomach of one of others, while Amanda span and kicked another. The rest of the men didn't waste their time; a fusillade of bullets rained down on the two. Amanda didn't have time to scream when the bullets hit her several time in her chest. She just dropped and died. Methos was shot in the stomach, knocking the wind from him. He gasped for air. He looked down and saw the blood was running between his fingers. He dropped to his knees, his vision blurring. One of the men approached him.

"What should we do about this guy?" he asked, putting a gun to Methos' head.

"We can't kill them, they're immortals. Just leave them here; we're taking the archaeologist."

"What about the cops?" Methos' breath was ragged. The pain was unbearable.

"You're right. Boss won't be happy if we leave 'em here, right in the middle of the street – cops might track us down. Bring 'em along. Who knows, they might know something."

"Got it." The trigger was pulled - once, twice, three times.

Methos died.

The rain fell heavily on the scene; the three immortals, dead and bleeding on the street, surrounded by their dark clad assailants. The street was slick with rain, and it dripped from the drenched men, running in rivulets down their weapons. "Damn weather," one of them muttered.

The wiper squeaked to itself, unnoticed.

***

Joe was sitting on a stage in his empty bar, playing his guitar. He was singing _"Suicide Is Painless",_ while rain continued to tap against the windowpanes. Occasionally, he heard thunder rumbling from the distance.

_Through early morning fog I see_

_Visions of the things to be_

_The pains that are with held for me_

_I realise and I can see_

_That suicide is painless_

_It brings on many changes_

_And I can take or leave it if I please_

_The game of life is hard to play_

_Gonna to lose it anyway_

_The losing card I'll someday lay_

_So this is all I have to say_

Joe stopped singing. He might not be an immortal, but he could sense that someone was watching him from inside his empty bar. "Hello? Anyone there?" Joe peered into the gloom, but he couldn't see anyone. He put his guitar on the floor, and reached for his cane. A shadowy figure leaned forward from behind the bar counter.

"Don't stop singing, Dawson. I think you were great."

Joe looked at the person with wide eyes. "Cassandra? Is that you?"

A brown-haired woman came into the light, pouring herself a whisky. "You don't mind, do you?" She asked. Joe blinked several times, and stared at the woman. She was wet from head to toe, water pooling at her feet. "Damn weather. Can you believe how long it's been like this?"

Joe walked slowly with his cane to Cassandra. He looked surprised to see her, one of the few immortals that knew about the existence of the Watchers. "I didn't expect to see you again after the grueling business with Kronos…"

"And Methos. Don't forget about him." Cassandra said calmly.

"Still holding grudge?"

Cassandra put the whiskey bottle down hard, some of the brown liquor sloshing out. She gave Joe a cold stare, but her smile remained fixed, though it hardened. "What gives you that idea?"

Joe sighed, "Listen, Cassandra. I don't have time for this. Methos isn't here and…"

"I know that." She brushed him off. "I didn't come all the way here from Oslo to find him and kill him after all that he had done with The Horsemen - which was killing thousands of people, can't forget that bit – when I could just come and visit old friends." Joe stared to smiling Cassandra. "No, why would I do that after all these centuries?"

"Cassandra…"

"Chill up, Dawson. I'm not here because of him, unfortunately. I just escaped a tricky situation back in Oslo. A guy almost whacked me – but not before he asked me something about a certain Prize. Do you know anything about this?"

"Does anyone _not_ know about this?" Joe grunted as he sat on the barstool. Cassandra poured him a glass of whiskey. "I think I'm getting too old for this shit."

"You can say that again."


	15. The Watchers

_**Flashback, Three Days Ago**_

It was a windy nighttime in Paris. Rob the Watcher was watching three immortals standing near a barge located under the Bridge of Seine River. Other two Watchers accompanied him.

Rob was looking at the immortals with a night-vision binocular, another watcher named Ian was eating a tuna sandwich, and another watcher, a pretty black woman, named Naomi was smoking. They were hiding on top of a small deli shop over viewing the river.

"Can you pass me the drink, please?" Ian asked. Naomi threw him a can of soft drink. She blew smoke rings and shivered. It was chilly. Rob frowned to both of them.

"Don't you have immortals to spy on?"

Ian shrugged and burped. He muttered apology while took a sip from the drink can. Naomi threw the cigarette's butt over the building. "They're together with your immortal, sweetie. We're taking a break."

Rob shook his head and continued watching Evelyn, Methos, and Amanda talking near the barge. "What are they doing now? They're not doing anything besides talking. Whose barge is that?"

"That would be Duncan MacLeod's barge. Our immortals are friends with him." Naomi peeked through her own binocular. "So is Joe Dawson."

Rob seemed surprised with this information. "Duncan MacLeod? How is that possible?"

Ian answered while still chewing, "Never mind with the whole 'The Watchers' cannot intervene and bullshit like that. Joe Dawson is the higher ranking of the organization that apparently can bend rules like osteoporosis."

"What?"

"Don't be too shock with this; but immortals also interact with some of us, although it is frowned upon. Secret society is not so secret after all." Naomi pointed Methos. "That guy is kind of informant for Joe Dawson; he occasionally letting Dawson know about battles and what not. His name is Adam Pierson, and he used to be a Watcher."

Rob looked at Methos from his binocular. "Used to be? I was surprised to see him showing up at the Le Blues Café after the attack of Hope Mansion."

Ian finally looked from his own binocular. "Yep. Adam Pierson. He was a Watcher. You should read his file; it's complicated. Nobody knows how old he is or what is his real name. In addition, he is hard to track. Only with a group sight, we can collect his data. We suspect he is younger than Amanda. Amanda likes to surround herself with younger men." He chuckled. "She got herself a temperamental rookie immortal boyfriend."

The three Watchers were watching Amanda argued with Methos, while Evelyn seemed to be the referee and tried to break their argument. Rob was scanning the area with his binocular when he saw someone.

"Hello, who we have here?"

A man was standing on the bridge, watching the three immortals nonchalantly as if he was a bystander. The three Watchers immediately recognize him.

"Carl Abrahams. What is Benedict Thorpe's right hand man doing here in Paris?" Naomi asked with sudden interest.

"Isn't it obvious? He's after your immortal, mate." Said Ian. "She can lead to that rumored Prize everyone's been talking about. Thorpe wants it bad."

"He wants it bad so much, he doesn't care whether people die or not. I'm surprised Abrahams is still alive today, considering he's not immortal." Said Rob bitterly.

Naomi said with a matter of factly. "Bad seeds are everywhere, darling. They're attracted to power like moths to flames."

They went silent again and continued their surveillance. It looked like the immortals have finished their argument, although they could see from Amanda's face that she was pissed. Evelyn was talking to Methos, like lecturing him or something.

"What the hell are they saying?" Rob asked.

Ian snorted and wiped his nose. "My guess is that they are looking for MacLeod to include him with their plan – whatever that is. MacLeod has been on hiatus for years now. No one knows where his whereabouts. Not even Dawson."

"I doubt Amanda or Pierson could persuade him to come anyway. The two of them only gives MacLeod a headache." Naomi then pointed to Evelyn. "She on the other hand could only show up, and MacLeod will bend backwards."

The three of them gave a hearty laugh.

Methos, Amanda, and Evelyn finally moved and walking away from the barge. On the bridge, they separated. Methos waved to the women. Only Evelyn waved back, while Amanda gave him a middle finger. Then the women walked their separate ways.

Ian stood up and cracked his back. "It's been nice playing sight-seeing, everyone. It's time to hit the sack."

Rob frowned. "You're not following your immortal?"

Ian yawned and looked at his watch. "Considering Amanda, she'd be at her club slash casino. I won't stay all night watching her ripping people off their money."

"And you? What's your excuse?" Asked Rob.

"Eh, I will lose him anyway. Pierson has a knack of disappearing when he is alone. Many agents have been sent as his Watchers. After a while, we stopped trying. That is why we only send seasonal agent for him. Good afternoon, gentlemen. I'll see you around." She patted Rob's back.

Ron sighed and watched the two of them climbed down the building from the water pipe. He looked at his watch. He might as well follow Evelyn; after all, he stayed at the same hotel with her in Paris.

He climbed down the pipe and walked on the streets of Paris. Carl Abrahams had long gone, probably reporting the activities to Thorpe. If it were up to him, Rob probably would follow him.

But he was not a cop. He was not a detective. He was not FBI agent. He was a Watcher agent. His duty was only to follow his immortal that being assigned and record everything. At the end of the week, he filed the report. If there were anything important like a battle, he would report it immediately to his supervisor.

And that was it. He would not intervene.

Rob was walking around the corner and almost bumped someone who was blocking his way. He was shock, but recovered fast when he saw who the person was. Evelyn was standing in front of him. He muttered sorry and walked away fast.

"Wait."

Rob cursed under his breath, and turned around with a big smile on his face. "_Oui_?"

"You're my Watcher, right?" She asked.

Big sweat formed on his forehead, but he kept smiling. "_Pardon_? I zon't speek Engleesh."

Evelyn nodded. "That is fine. I just want to say that you should be careful. This whole thing is a mess. It is gonna be a bumpy journey from now on."

Rob didn't answer. He was looking at Evelyn as if he didn't understand what she was saying. Evelyn just smiled, winked, and then walked away.

Rob watched her back with wide eyes. Her long dark hair was bouncing, like one of those women in the hair commercials. He sighed watching her walked away. He still looked at her for a while until she disappeared into a fog. He pulled out a tape recorder and started to talk; "Note to self: in this business we need to have certain finesse… and you are a regular jackass, Rob."

He walked again when suddenly a rumble sound was heard from the sky. The stars had gone, and thick grey clouds were covering the night sky. It was beginning to rain.

---

Rob, Naomi, and Ian were stunned watching the whole scene. Bunch of men killed their immortals in mere minutes. They watched as Evelyn, Amanda, and Methos were shot ala execution in the middle of Parisian street. It was a wonder that nobody witness this. However, in this weather, people decided to stay at their homes.

The Watchers were sitting in a car about few yards from the scene. They had been recorded the whole thing. Ian pressed his nose against the window, because the heavy rain blocked his view. Naomi was holding the camera recorder, and she was gaping. Rob recovered quickly and reached for his cellphone.

"Holy shit." Said Ian.

"They're dead." Naomi retorted.

"They're not dead." Rob corrected her. "Well, they're dead. But not for long." He looked at his cellphone. "I don't have a damn signal. Can you guys call the Headquarters or something, instead of twiddling your thumbs?"

"I'm recording this, love. This is fascinating." Naomi kept recording.

"They're leaving, guys. Should we follow?" Ian asked the others. He saw the armed men throwing the immortals inside their vans. The rain washed the pool of blood away, like nothing had happened there. Naomi and Rob looked at each other. Remembering what Evelyn said to him few days ago, made him swallowed. Following these people might be risky.

"Well… Our job is to follow our immortals that being assigned…" Rob said quietly.

Everyone didn't say anything nor made any comments. Rob took this as a way to say that they should follow them. It was different when there was a battle between immortals; in a battle, one of the immortals would be dead and that was the end of that.

Thorpe must have been behind this. He didn't want them to die, he wanted them to live so they could find whatever this thing they after.

Rob tossed his cellphone to Ian. Naomi still recording, although the assailants' car had gone. "Call Joe Dawson and HQ. Tell them there has been another attack. And this time they are being kidnapped."

Rob was driving very fast; Naomi had to fumble with the seatbelt. Ian complained, "This is nuts! They are insane! I've never seen a brutal thing like that ever in my life!"

"Didn't you see Jasper Brock beheaded Ned Gilliam last month in Berlin?" Naomi shook her head and looked Rob from the corner of her eye because he was driving so fast; she had to bit her bottom lip.

"That was different, Naomi! That was pure battle between immortals, not Sonny Corleone-execution-toll-booth-type-thing!" Ian yelled.

"Don't yell at me!" Naomi yelled back.

"I'm not yelling!"

"Guys, remember our training. This is no different. And this is definitely no worse than the Mansion attack where those guards were killed. So, calm down." Rob managed to neutralize the situation considering he was driving like a mad man.

"I'll call the Headquarters and Dawson. Keep going, I got the signal." Ian said hurriedly.

"Where do you think they're going?" Naomi asked while turned the camera off.

"Contact Thorpe's Watcher. Check it out from the Mobile Data Terminal." Rob answered. Naomi turned on the screen of MDT and typed something on the keyboard. A symbol of Watchers appeared on the screen, and Naomi typed more. A picture of Benedict Thorpe appeared on screen, also the name of his Watcher. She called Thorpe's Watcher from her cellphone.

Rob was driving in high speed, ignoring the fact that sometimes he ran off the red lights and bumped many cars. Sounds of angry yelling, cars honking, and water splashing, plus the brakes and ignition being forced were heard.

Naomi listened from her cellphone and nodded. "Thank you!" She turned off her cellphone and typed some more. "He's here." She pointed a location on the screen map. "Many Watchers apparently are there too. You know how many immortals guards are hired by Thorpe? If we go there, we will find our assignments."

"You say like they are not human beings." Rob bitterly said.

"What?"

"Nothing. We're going there. Gimme Dawson on the phone." Rob said. The image of Evelyn fallen down on the street of Paris just burnt into his brain. Sometimes he wondered why he took this job if he couldn't protect the person he cared about.

Rob knew there was nothing he could do about it. History was in the making, and he was only a Watcher that recorded everything. As a Watcher, he wasn't supposed to get involved emotionally. However, after this experience, he didn't know whether he could take it.


	16. The Witch

Cassandra was pouring the last drop of whiskey into a glass in the bar. She sighed and glanced at Joe from the corner of her eyes. Joe was sitting a bit far from her and was on the phone. He was writing on his notepad while taking the call. Joe excused himself to take a phone call after he told the story about the rumored Prize, and how Methos, Amanda, and the lady archeologist were looking for it.

"What? I can't believe it! What about the cops?" Joe refrained himself from yelling. He listened for a while, and then continued writing. "Fine. Just do whatever you do, and find them!" He hung up and ran his hand through his hair. He looked at Cassandra and thought hard. He had an idea – a crazy idea, but he was desperate.

Cassandra walked towards him and gave him a glass of whiskey. "This is the last one."

Joe glanced at her and closed his notepad. "From my last bottle. That ain't cheap."

Cassandra sat in front of Joe and tried to read his notepad. "What's this? Information about the Sword whereabouts?"

Joe snatched the notepad from her. "Do I run an Information Center here? What is it with everyone?"

Cassandra laughed, "Listen, Dawson. If you wanna save the world, or whatever you might call it, you gotta include me in this. How am I suppose to find that Sword and destroy it if you won't even tell me where Methos and the others gone?"

"How am I supposed to know that you won't use whatever information I have, to conduct personal vendetta against Methos?" Joe flatly asked.

"Don't you trust me?"

"Do I look like I was born yesterday?"

"Do you answer questions with another question?"

"About what?"

Cassandra exhaled and put her elbows on the table. "Dawson, I really want to help. Methos has nothing to do with this. If I want to…kill him, I would've done it years ago." She looked up to Joe, clearly drunk. "I'll help you, and the rest of human beings."

Joe was clearly uneasy with her drunken plead. "Are you sure about this?"

Cassandra smiled. "You let Duncan help. You let Methos help. You even let Amanda help. Why am I different?"

Joe was drumming his fingers. "I talked to the head of The Watchers, Cassie. As a Watcher, I can't get involved with immortals. We have different world; you know, like witches and muggles." Joe grinned while Cassandra gave him a look. "The only reason I got away from mostly every liaison with other immortals such as Mac, Amanda, and sometimes Methos is because _they_ provide me with useful information about things. Mac is a regular boy scout, Amanda occasionally helps him because she has soft spot for him, and Methos...well, I'm sure he has his own agenda. But the fact of the matter is; _they _are very useful to The Watcher. What are _you_ going to provide me?"

Cassandra looked at him like he was crazy. "Wow. Now I understand the whole meaning of symbiotic relationship." She paused for a second. "I have…powers, Dawson."

"Yes… Mac told me about it." Joe quietly said. "It was hard for me to believe him at first. But nowadays… nothing seems surprises me anymore."

Cassandra relaxed a bit. "I happen to have…gifts. If you wanna call it that."

"Witchcraft, you mean?"

Cassandra laughed. "Ha! People believe whatever they want to believe. They see whatever they want to see. And they hear whatever they want to hear." She grinned, "Never underestimate the power of suggestion. But I can make _you_ to let me to help you, Dawson. Just say the word, and I will give you a nudge off the cliff." She pointed her finger to Joe.

Joe smiled in contempt, "I will let you help, Cassie. But you gotta report to me all the time. And you need someone to help you. And don't say that you work alone or some shit like that, because it won't work."

"But no Watchers for me." She bargained. Joe wanted to protest, but she cut him off. "I may be drunk, but I'm not stupid. No Watchers following me 24/7. I'm here officially as The Watcher agent, unlike Methos who wonders off whenever he wants to."

"I rather not bring Methos and the others into this business. The Watchers doesn't trust him when he went incognito as an agent. But we know they are on a mission to find that Sword, for the benefit of every immortals in this world. We can't touch them, or even interfere with this…problem. You on the other hand…" Joe raised his eyebrow. "Take it or leave it."

Cassandra nodded. "It's nice to be needed." She took the whiskey glass that was intended to Joe and gulped it. Joe didn't say anything. "So what kind of trouble Methos has now?"

Joe deadpanned. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Dawson… Whoever that missing from your Watcher surveillance, is gotta be Methos. You won't be as pensive like this if it wasn't him. Something happened?" She looked at her glass, and then looked up to him.

Joe closed his eyes and exhaled. "Methos…Amanda…They were ambushed. And now they're gone. I don't know where they are right now. Their Watchers lost their trails."

There was silence for a while. Only the sounds of rain and thunder were heard outside. Cassandra nodded silently. "I see. You want me to find Methos…"

"Find Methos and the others, and we might find The Sword." He said matter of factly.

Cassandra scoffed. "If my prediction is true, they are heading to Egypt."

Joe blinked several times. "What?"

"Based on your story about the whole Sword thing, of course any immortals with this knowledge will go to Egypt to retrieve the Sword – if they smart enough to go to the source." She explained.

"Do you think you know where it's hidden?" Joe asked.

"I may have powers, Dawson. And I live long enough to understand how people act. But even I need some push." She shrugged.

Joe wrote down something on his notepad and tore the page from it. He gave the piece of paper to Cassandra. "That's why you need someone to help you."

She read the piece of paper with the name and an address.

_NICK WOLFE_.

"Help me here." She raised her eyebrow. "Who's this?"

Joe sighed. He looked very tired. "Amanda's boyfriend."

Cassandra choked a bit. "Ha! What are you – trying to fix me up or something?"

"He's a private detective, an ex-cop. He might be able to help you out. In this circumstance, we need any help we can get." He grimaced. "Desperate time…"

"Huh. What, Duncan MacLeod is not available?" She sneered. "I thought he's supposed to be your _beck-and-call _boy."

Joe said quietly. "I haven't seen Mac for years."

She bit her upper lip. She touched a nerve, apparently. Any subject regarding Duncan MacLeod had been a sore subject for Joe. Even for her. She would never forgive Duncan. But she loved Duncan, always had. She would do anything for him – even when he prevented her killing her immortal enemy.

"Fine. I'll be your 'agent'. For the safety of human beings, right?" Cassandra said in a sarcastic tone. "Or is it for The Watchers Chronicles' benefit?"

"Does it matter? Cassandra, this is for the greater good." Joe extended his hand. Cassandra nodded and shook his hand.

"For the greater good…"

She hit her head hard onto the table and passed out. Joe looked at her with wide eyes. Outside, the rain was getting worse and occasionally thunders were heard. Joe sadly looked at her. "Witch…"

Desperate time needs desperate measure.


	17. The Face

_Methos was lying on his back. _

_He was watching the blue sky and enjoying the breeze. The grass tickled his arms which were tucked under his head. He could hear the sound of river, trickling down between the rocks, and the sound of trees and leaves._

_He wished that he could be like this forever; never had to worry about anything. _

_Never had to worry about how Kronos might look for him with the rest of The Horsemen. Never had to worry about how he might be hungry and had to steal some food from the market. Never had to worry about how he falls in love with a stranger._

_Beside him, there was a woman with dark hair. Her eyes were closed as she was sleeping. Anthea was sleeping next to him. Her dark hair sprawled in the grass, while her chest heave up and down, breathing slowly._

_She opened her eyes, and smiled._

_Methos wished he would never forget that smile._

_

* * *

_

Methos was lying on the floor. His eyes snapped open, his body jerked, he gasped for air, and he had a violent cough. Being brought back to live never had been an easy thing. It was a painful experience.

"Welcome back, old guy."

Methos' head was spinning and his vision blurred. He looked up and saw Amanda was crouching beside him on the floor. He tried to sit, but he was still groggy. He groaned and slowly got up. "I really hate this part."

Amanda helped him to sit. "I know."

Methos rest his back against the wall, and noticed that they were in some sort of container. There was a light bulb above them and the only light they had. "Where the hell are we?"

"I gather we are in a ship or something." Amanda shrugged. "I heard the ship horns."

Methos looked around. There was no sign of Evelyn. "Where is…?"

Amanda shook her head slowly. "I don't know, sweetie."

Methos sighed. This was not a good sign at all. He stood up and looked around. "Is there any way we can get out from here?"

Amanda shook her head. "Couldn't find an escape hatch or something. I banged the door many times, but there wasn't anyone coming."

"Yes, banging doors is your specialty." Methos muttered. "And I thought you're the great escape _artiste_."

Amanda gave him a look. She walked around in the container instead. In it there were many boxes, chests, relics, and artifacts. Amanda opened one of the wooden boxes and pulled out a golden statue of Buddha. She grinned. "Nice. Very nice." Her eyes were glimmering. "If we weren't being shot at and being kidnapped, this would be a nice moment for me."

"Yes, very nice. It's not yours, by the way." He said. Amanda scoffed at him and put the statue back. Methos searched something from inside his coat. "Figures. They took my gun, my cellphone, and my sword. Damn it."

"Same here. And they ruined my Prada jacket. Bastards." She took off her bloody jacket and showed Methos the bullet holes. "They haven't taken my dignity yet."

Before Methos had a chance to reply, there was a sound of the container's door being unlocked and opened. Amanda, who was standing close to the door, took a step back. A man with two bodyguards appeared at the door.

"Well, apparently boss was right. They're awake." Carl Abrahams was smiling. "Immortals can sense their own."

"Where's Evelyn?" Asked Methos.

"She is safe. She's the one we want. If it's up to me, you guys already be dead. I guess there is such thing as luck, especially for immortals with bad dye hair…" Carl hadn't had a chance to finish his sentence when Amanda suddenly punched him in the nose.

Carl steps back, holding his nose. The two bodyguards were cocking their guns and pointed them to Amanda. Methos chuckled, "Serves you right. How dare you insulting a woman's hair?" He pulled Amanda gently to his side. "My friend here has a temper, and I suggest that you'd be nice to her."

Carl waved his hand, and the bodyguards put away their guns. "We can easily just eliminate you all now, immortals or not!" He yelled while still holding his nose. "You broke my nose!"

"That I don't believe. If you wanna eliminate us permanently, you would've done that back in Paris or even in L.A" Said Methos calmly. "I think you still need us."

Carl seemed baffled, or maybe he just a little dizzy from Amanda's punch. "My boss told me to bring you all to the upper deck. Don't try anything stupid." He signaled both Amanda and Methos to follow the bodyguards.

* * *

Inside his chamber, Benedict Thorpe was checking his bruised neck in front of a mirror. Evelyn looked up to him from behind her reading glasses and frowned. In front of her, there were ancient scrolls and documents on the desk. She was forced to translate the inscription after she returned from the dead, or Methos and Amanda would get killed.

"That's a nasty bruise. How come it doesn't heal?" She asked. He quickly wrapped a shawl around his neck and ignored her question. She rolled her eyes and continued reading the scrolls. "Sometime when someone's soul is very dark, it will leave marks." She commented.

Thorpe didn't say anything, but seemed to ponder. Both of them looked up when they felt a buzz. A moment later, Carl entered the chamber with two hostages. Thorpe raised his eyebrow when he saw Carl was holding his nose, but didn't say anything. He saw a pink haired woman and a tall dark haired man. Evelyn stood up and seemed so glad that they were fine.

"Hey." Methos greeted her. He was smiling at her. "You're okay."

"Hey." Evelyn greeted back. "You guys are okay too." She smiled back at him, and Thorpe seemed notice this.

Amanda was looking around the chamber with amazement. There was a grand piano, a leather sofa, a plasma television, and a bar inside the chamber. The chamber looked like a cozy living room. Thorpe turned his attention to them. "Well, I believe we haven't got the pleasure. You must be the famous 'Raven'." He said to Amanda. "Your style is unusual. I heard about your works, and quite amazed with what you did with the Jade Dragon from Hong Kong museum."

Amanda was smiling in acknowledgement. "It was a long time ago, and one of my pride works." Methos snickered hearing her couldn't resist to brag.

Thorpe looked at Methos. "You're the mysterious one. Who are you?"

"I'm just a regular guy who always stuck in the wrong place and at the wrong time." He grinned. Amanda rolled her eyes. Sometimes Methos could be a drama queen.

Evelyn sighed, "When are you going to get it to your thick head, Thorpe? We don't know where the Sword is. These whole murdering, kidnapping, and rumours – why you even need us?"

Thorpe cleared his throat, and touched his shawl around his neck. "You were looking for that Sword back then. And then you're looking for it again now – with them." He pointed Methos and Amanda. "You're the only one who understands the ancient inscriptions from the scrolls." He nodded to Amanda. "And I need her expertise to get the Sword." Amanda seemed surprised about this, but didn't say anything. "I don't know anything about him yet. He might be useful."

"I'm looking for it, so I can make sure idiots like you can't get their hands on the Sword. Treasure hunting is not for me anymore." She flatly said.

"Ah, yes. In terms of looking for the perfect family life…" Thorpe said quietly. "You got married and built life – but in the end it got you nowhere. You had to bury him."

Evelyn stared at Thorpe blankly. She felt like someone reached into her chest and pulled out her heart. Amanda and Methos watched her body trembled and her fists clenched. Amanda wanted to lurched herself to Thorpe, but Methos held her elbow gently. He silently signaled Amanda not to do anything – yet.

Evelyn closed her eyes, and then opened it again. "You are scared, Thorpe. You need us because you are desperate to find the Sword; not to rule the world like you were planning to – but because you are afraid of something…" Said Evelyn. "Or someone."

Thorpe's eyes widened, and he looked shocked. Methos and Amanda smirked to see Thorpe's face in pure shock, knowing she was reading his mind. It was priceless.

"I – I don't know what you're talking about." Thorpe said defensively.

Evelyn's were fixed to Thorpe's. "You are obsessive with this Sword; you stumbled upon this quest during my own research years ago, and the concept of an immortal ruling the world is very appealing to you. But your obsession with the myth soon made you took a dramatic measure…" Thorpe automatically placed his hand to his neck covered shawl.

Methos frowned to see him agitated. Evelyn didn't continue her mind reading; she suddenly put her hand to her mouth and gasped.

"What's wrong?" Methos asked. She didn't answer, but somehow felt uneasy. She looked at Methos in disbelief and shook her head.

Suddenly all of the immortals in the chamber felt an immortal buzz. Thorpe agitated more, but he was trying to composed himself. Evelyn's ears were ringing, and she somewhat got dizzy and almost faint. Amanda held her while Methos turned his attention to the door to see who was coming to join the party.

An old man with a golden cane walked into the room slowly. He looked so old, like an ancient immortal. His eyes looked so cold, and his presence made everyone in the room shivered and felt uncomfortable. His hands looked like a tree bark, and he had long fingers. His back seemed crooked, and he was skinny like a skeleton with skins. His face was so pale; it seemed blood didn't even exist in his body. His appearance reminded everyone of vampire from old black and white movie; Nosferatu. It seemed he had an evil aura surrounding him.

The old man watched everyone in the room with a cold stare. And then he turned to Methos, and his eyes fixed to him.

When he said something, his voice sounded like a creaking old door – very rough and painful to hear. But it didn't prepare the rest of the people what he said next.

"Methos…"

Methos stared at the old immortal, and clenched his fists. His eyes turned dark and he set his jaws. He never expected to see him again, not in a million years.

"Djer. You're still alive."


End file.
